


Fantastic Smut Beasts Week!

by Miss_Lv



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Plug, BDSM, Begging, Beheading, Bestiality, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Newt, Bottom Percival, Breeding Bench, Choking, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Comeplay, Credence/newt, Crossdressing, Crying During Sex, Cunnilingus, Dark Newt, Death Rituals, Dom/sub, Drinking and Drugs via Potions, Drugging, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feral Behavior, Fighting Over Newt, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gangbang, Gender Identity, Genderbending, Genderfluid, Grindelwald/Newt, Grindelwald/credence, Hand Jobs, Heat Sex, Human Sacrifice, Implied Mpreg, Inhuman Percival, Intersex, Intersex Newt, Kink Exploration, Kissing and Biting, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Magical Bond, Magical Drugging, Magical Tattoos, Manipulation, Master/Pet, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind bond, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Newt Lies, Newt in dresses and women's underthings, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Nymphs - Freeform, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parent/Child Incest, Petplay, Possessive Behavior, Puppy Play, Rimming, Ritual Public Sex, Ritual Sex, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex with Sentient Animals, Sibling Incest, Size Kink, Size Queen Newt, Snowballing, Spying, Succubi & Incubi, Top Newt, Top Original Percival Graves, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Virginity, Voyeurism, cunt licking, heat - Freeform, minor bdsm, minor male lactation, minor torture, pain play, satyrs, trading sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 58,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13701090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lv/pseuds/Miss_Lv
Summary: This is a eight day challenge in which I will write short/beginning Gramander fics for each of the following:First Time, Switch, Dark AU, In Public, Music Inspiration, Beast Day, Gender Bent, Out With a Bang.I'll post the individual tags at the beginning of each fic! Enjoy!





	1. First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I'll post them in chapters and add the tags as we go along! Please let me know what your favorites are and the one that is the most liked on here and tumblr I will lengthen into a full fic. I may do so with others as well but the top fav will for sure! I wanted to do something for everyone who leaves such wonderful comments on my fics, you all are so awesome!
> 
> So for 'first time' I wanted to warn for a sort of underage in the sense that Percival physically and mentally ages into a adult within a year. I didn't think that deserved a underage tag tho? Let me know if I should slap it on there anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> **The tags for this chapter are: Parent/Child Incest, Inhuman Percival, Hand Jobs, Virginity, First Time, Kink Exploration, Succubi & Incubi, Minor Male Lactation, Mpreg.**

After a day gathering new information and making notes on local creatures, Newt went to his rented room for the evening. As he opened up the door, he stopped short to find someone waiting. A very handsome man with a charming smile. Newt felt heat pool in his belly immediately, he was very good looking and his eyes locked on Newt like he was the only thing that mattered. Newt was almost immediately sure this man was an incubus, one of the very creatures he had come to Romania to study.  

“M-May I help you?” Newt managed to ask, perhaps there was a mix up with the rooms but it felt unlikely. Newt had spent the last week asking the locals about the magical creatures that coexisted with them. He had given a special interest in incubi and succubi, hoping to learn more about the mysterious and widely feared beings.

“I heard you talking today,” the man said, his voice low and smooth, mesmerizing in a way. “In the market about the incubi, wanting to learn about them, you said.”

“Yes,” Newt agreed hastily, adjusting his wrist sleeve awkwardly. “I’m writing a book you see, and I would like to write the facts rather than the lore.”

“Most books are about how to kill creatures,” a frown pulled on the man’s face and he looked out the window he stood beside. “More would hunt and harm rather than learn.”

“Well, I hope to change that. To educate my fellow wizards and make them see we should be living peacefully with creatures, rather than out to harm them.”

The stranger looked at Newt again, as if he could see right into him and know if he meant what he said.

After a moment he seemed pleased and smiled warmly, making Newt feel that heat edge up his spine, his whole body feeling distinctly…warm.

“Are you sure you’re not the incubus? You’re very pretty,” he teased, not cruel but more kind than anything.

Newt laughed weakly, looking down in embarrassment while the man crossed the room. He reached just passed Newt’s head and tipped the door to the room the last inch closed, the lock clicking automatically.

Now, Newt wasn’t the sort to be sleeping with just anyone. He wasn’t that type at all really. His experiences in sex were very few and mostly with him fumbling and feeling like a fool. The stranger never told Newt his name but he did lay Newt down on the bed and make his body feel amazing. Newt hadn’t realized how good sex could be, how much he could feel and how high carnal pleasure could take him.

At some point, the incubus stopped hiding, but Newt was far too gone to even think straight, much less comment on it. The creature had Newt over and over, taking him and spilling in him, licking Newt’s neck and telling him lovely he looked spread out on the bed. He had long dark horns but surprisingly no wings. His eyes were golden and glowing. His skin around his hands and feet faded from a tanned brown into a magical blue-black, as if he had dipped them into something dark. He had claws but never used them. His feet were different, Newt knew that much but he never got a clear look at them, too distracted.

The incubus kissed wet and deep, his tongue was rather long Newt thought. But it felt good. It felt all so good, every touch was perfect. Newt shivered as he came and whimpered for more, unable to do anything but want more.

Newt doesn’t know when he lost consciousness. One moment he was kissing and being rutted into and the next moment he was waking up alone in the room.

Newt whimpered out pitifully, everything hurt, his poor body aching. The light from the window making his head throb and he clenched his eyes closed to avoid it. His thighs and backside burning in pain as he reached out blindly for his coat. His magic brought it to his fingers and inside his right pocket was an emergency potion. Newt took it quickly and then sighed out as the pain receded.

Newt relaxed into the pillow under his head slowly, feeling the potion work until the pounding in his head was more bearable. It felt like a very intense hangover and Newt wondered if he had been drained by the incubus. He tired to catalogue the sensations to record them later. He now had first-hand experience to work from.  

Something made a soft sound and Newt’s eyes flew open as he jerked up into a sitting position. He had been sure he was alone in the room, it was small and plain with nowhere to hide.

The bottom part of the bed was a mess of blood.

Newt suddenly understood why his body ached so badly.

There was an infant between his knees, sleeping softly, cord still attached to an afterbirth between Newt’s thighs.

He had no idea where exactly the baby came out of and he doesn’t want to know right at that moment as shock settled over him.

Fighting down panic, Newt reached for his wand. He cleaned the gory mess absently and brought over a clean towel to wrap the baby in. It was very clearly an incubus. A little male with tiny horns and a long thin tail. His little hands and feet have the same skin, fading into black at the tips. His feet were different too, more joints then a human with four long toes rather than human feet. He had dark hair and on his forehead are two little horn bumps.

Newt swallowed weakly and realized he was very much out of his depth.

He had no idea how to care for this tiny life in his hands, feeling so fragile and innocent in his careful grip.

The stories of incubi were varied, some people casting such dark light on the poor creatures and others recalling them fondly. There was little known about them, some rumors suggested the succubi and incubi was a single being, able to change genders.

There were some who even claimed to have carried a half-breed child. Newt had looked into that as well but found the children all perfectly human. He did know better then to say that, nervous mothers who were supposed to have been virgins. Holding a true incubi babe proved his suspicions on the matter.

That was problem at the heart of the matter though.

A lot of people blamed the creatures and claimed they saw them to cover more… carnal affairs with other people. So what was the truth and what was lies was rather hard to dissect for these unique creatures. Newt abruptly wondered if this was how the incubi last night had decided to educate him, by giving him an incubi child to raise.

The child snuffled and slowly woke up, taking Newt’s full attention once more. Golden eyes peer up at Newt, wide and innocent as the baby cooed at him in innocuous delight.

“H-Hello,” Newt whispered and gathered the baby closer to him, wrapping him more up snugly as tiny fingers curl around one of his fingers. The baby sucked his own thumb, holding his head up and looking at Newt with curiosity. The child was more advanced than a human newborn, more alert with more motor control Newt observed.

Newt’s child whimpered and reached out, spit smeared hands reaching for him and his heart thumped painfully as he brought the baby to his chest awkwardly but gently and cradled him as he had seen mothers do before.

“Oh, hello little darling,” Newt could only whisper softly, as if talking too loud would break the moment.

Something like awe settling over him.  

The baby turned his little head and nuzzled Newt’s bare skin. He was still nude he realized and the baby latched onto a nipple.

“Nothing there I’m afraid,” he chuckled and then startled a bit at the wet sensation. Then he blinked at the very odd feeling of…something. The baby pulled off and smacked his lips, milk bubbling on his lips as he latched again.

Newt was lactating.  

His chest looked the same, his other nipple looked normal but he could feel it, felt the baby nursing.

The child he delivered in a single night.

Despite being a man.

Clearly, the lore on the incubus was vastly underwhelming compared to the truth.

A tail curled around Newt’s wrist, holding tightly as the baby drank contently, blinking his golden eyes up at Newt. As if imprinting on him, looking up at his mother as Newt peered looked back down and felt his heart make room for this new life.  

“I suppose I’m your mummy, my little darling.”

 

“Mummy!” Percival wailed out and Newt felt that kneejerk reaction for the alarm in his son’s tone. Newt left the nundu enclosure and scanned for the boy, trying to calm the fear in him that something terrible had occurred.

Percival appeared, unharmed, but sobbing as he hurried to Newt and reached out to him, wanting to be picked up. Newt never could resist and scooped up his son, letting him cling close. Percival was a very tactile child and seemed to have some sort of magical power involving empathy, sensing emotions in others. When he was upset, the only thing that could calm him was to be hugged close by a composed Newt. He seemed to take that emotion into himself and use it to calm as well. He had learned a great deal about controlling his emotions these last few months in order to be there for his son. Percival’s little hand reached out and rested on Newt’s cheek, taking comfort in skin contract. The boy hiccupped a sob and his tears slowed, eventually he began to quiet as Newt rocked him and kissed his hair and cute little horns.

“What’s wrong?” He asked when Percival seemed calm enough to answer. The lovely thing about Percival’s empathy was that he could project it as well, when they had skin contact, Newt could feel Percival’s emotions faintly. The boy was still distressed but much calmer now. He wasn’t hurt physically but something had troubled him terribly.

“I touched Frank,” Percival admitted miserably and Newt’s heart constricted in reaction. His poor boy.

Percival could feel other’s pain, could feel their fear and their agony.

Frank was an amazing thunderbird Newt had recently rescued and he was in terrible condition, feathers ripped out and used for potions, bits of his skin cut away, deeply embedded wounds from chains and half starved.

Newt’s heart hurt to see the magnificent beast so injured and that Percival had felt any measure of that made him hug his child much tighter. Newt had been researching frantically but he didn’t know if Percival would ever learn to control this ability. Or if he was both blessed and doomed to feel everything each time he touched a living creature.

“You must be careful love, you feel so much,” Newt gently cautioned. Percival was trembling too much for him to truly scold.

Newt thought of good things, of the first time Percival fed the mooncalves and his first wobbling steps on shaky feet, looking back to make sure Newt was there with him still. The soothing memories brought serenity and Percival sagged into it, sighing against Newt’s neck.

Pickett the bowtruckle clucked in worry, poking out of Newt’s shirt pocket.

Other creatures were looking too, checking that Percival was ok.

He had an amazing relationship with them, feeling them and bonding with them on a wonderful level. Percival had taught Newt so much about magical creatures, just by relaying their emotions.

“M’ok,” Percival whispered to Pickett and the bowtruckle chirped in relief.

“Why don’t we go and finish feeding Margret? She’ll be happy to see you, her little cub,” Newt teased and Percival giggled as he wiped at his tears. The nundu adored Percival and thought him her own young. Licking him to clean him every time she saw him and trying to share her food, always doting and endeared to him.

“I’m your cub though, right?”

Newt smiled.

“Of course, my darling boy,” Newt let his emotions run free, all the love he felt for his special little boy. Percival sighed, curling into the sensation of love as Newt carried him to the enclosure.

 

“Bastard,” Percival snarled, scrambling after Edgar the niffler. “Give it back!”

Newt fought a fond smile as he measured the feeds into buckets and listened to the ruckus behind him. Percival chased the niffler across the open areas, the little beast scrambling frantically. Who knew what he had stolen but Percival wasn’t one to be bested. He would hunt the niffler for days, had done so, setting harmless traps and spending hours thinking of ways to get him. It was honestly good exercise for them both.

Percival was growing so quickly and he needed to burn his energy, the suitcase beginning to feel tight with a wild boy running through it.

Five months since the day he was born he looked like an adolescent, his mind developing just as fast. He devoured education, read books and could recite them line for line after one read. Newt had made a notice-me-not charm for his son, so he could take him to libraries and let him read as he pleased.

Percival was wary of people but also fascinated with them, sitting on benches and watching for hours. He was learning to read them like his books, developing a unique ability to see into a person, to see the good and bad in them like marks on their skin. He learned that more slowly, taking his time. With common education he was always eager for more, never satisfied until he knew everything there was to know.

So they also went to museums and art galleries, cultural events and religious places, everywhere Newt could think of where he could learn, he took Percival. They had been all over Europe as well, travelling from place to place while living in the suitcase. It was depleting Newt’s savings but worth it to see Percival learning so much and delighted with it all. He had fun like any child would, playing and learning games, but it was clear he had a passion for knowledge that Newt did his best to feed.   

He looked to Newt often for answers, utterly believing whatever he told him. It put a great deal of pressure on Newt, to carefully think his answers through before he said them. He understood now, the heavy weight of being a parent, of shaping a young innocent mind.

Percival was very adaptive as well, reacting quickly and keeping his wits. Always able to blend in no matter where they were. He could eat meat cooked or raw, or just vegetables alone, his diet seemed to be whatever was available.

His touch empathy remained very powerful but he did have a measure of control over it now, able to draw away from others enough to treat wounds and the like. Skin on skin let him feel and project emotions. He was fast and stronger than a human, very intelligent and able to think on his feet.

Just recently he had learned to make himself look human. It was an illusion, something he was projecting without actually changing himself. But Newt’s magic couldn’t sense it at all. No magical detection devices could either. Percival, thankfully, seemed to come into his powers on instinct has he grew, his body just learning new things similar to walking and talking. There was no need for a guide to teach him. Newt was utterly grateful for those instincts has he had no real idea how to help as Percival discovered powers Newt hadn’t even known he would have.

“Are you ready?” Percival asked, suddenly right there watching Newt sort the food out. Newt didn’t start anymore but he was caught off guard still. Percival could move without a sound, could slip through crowds without touching anyone, his control really was precise. He’s given Newt a weak heart when he vanished as a boy.

“Almost done,” Newt reassured as Percival stepped in close and hugged Newt’s back to his chest. He was just tall enough to rest his chin on Newt’s shoulder and had preened for days when he realized it. So he let his son wrap around him, fingers worming under his shirt for skin contact as Newt worked. They had gotten good at this, Newt working with Percival curled up around him contently.

“I want to see festival lights when the sun goes down,” Percival reminded absently, watching Newt’s hands work. “The woman in the market said it was amazing to see.”

Newt hummed in agreement. He had seen this festival before and it was indeed lovely to watch the lanterns being lit. He divided the food up with care but did hurry a bit so they could go and find a good spot to watch everything.

He could feel Percival’s eagerness but also his happiness right where they were, standing close and working in the tranquil of the suitcase. Percival loved to see things but in the end, he always wanted to return home, into the suitcase where he felt the safest. Newt had to agree, it had come to feel like home to him as well.

 

“Show me,” Newt demanded, voice breathless and a touch desperate as Percival growled at his own carelessness but let Newt pry his hands from his side. He was slashed but not too deep, nothing deadly and Newt let out a breath, his shoulders drooping in relief. He slumped carefully against his grown son and thanked the heavens he was going to be fine.  

“I messed up, this is all my fault,” Percival grumbled and Newt reached a hand out, cupping Percival’s face and letting him feel that Newt blamed him in no way.

They had been out late and Percival had been practising holding his human illusion. He had been doing so well and it was flawless really. Newt should have known better though, to push the length of time he held it in such a dangerous area. They were out in the country in Mexico, in an isolated area were catholic religion ruled over all. Percival had lost his focus and his true form had shown. People had immediately screamed devil and they had been forced to run away from the village on foot. Thank Merlin, Newt had been carrying the case with him and not left it in some hotel.

Now they were safe, deep in a forest were no muggle would be able to catch up, much less find them.

Percival had been hurt in the chase but it wasn’t something Newt couldn’t treat. Resting a hand gently over the cut to keep pressure, Newt hugged him tightly with his other arm. Percival was sitting on a large boulder and Newt sagged down so he was kneeling between his thighs, clutching him close still.

“As long as you’re ok,” Newt breathed against Percival’s chest. “Darling, they would have accused me just as fast if they saw me use magic. Human’s fear what they don’t understand.”

Newt could feel Percival’s bitter self-disgust, knowing he was different from others.

“I think you are lovely and we are all singular in some way. It’s a good thing I believe.”

“Why must I hide from wizards and witches as well then?”

Newt sighed out, pressing his brow again Percival’s chest and feeling his son’s arms encircle and hug him, Percival’s chin resting in Newt’s hair.

“Because they would see what you are before they saw you for who you are. Magical Creatures are second-class citizens, beasts before people. They’re wrong of course, terribly wrong, but they won’t listen. If they knew, they would treat you less and I couldn’t stand it.”

“So I’ll hide forever?”

“I will change it, one day,” Newt promised and meant it so utterly. “I’m going to write books and make people understand. That you are just as much a person as they are. That you deserve everything they do.”

“I don’t care about that,” Percival muttered. “I just want to walk with you, be beside you always.”

“I can promise you that much then, I’ve never been ashamed to be beside you and I never will. I only fear for your safety.” Newt assured and he could feel Percival smile into his hair, his happiness bleeding through his pain at being rejected by others.

“I only need you mum,” Percival rumbled and Newt could feel that he spoke truthfully.

 

“What does sex feel like?”

Newt nearly dropped his quill in surprise but managed to keep hold of it. Percival was laid out on their shared bed, staring at the roof while Newt went over notes at his desk. It had only been a few weeks since they were run out of town and they had been staying close to one another.

Percival was at the right development state, Newt supposed, glancing over at him. He looked similar to his sire, tall and broad. Appearing in his mid-twenties despite being barely a year old. He had filled out but never managed to get taller than Newt, much to his annoyance. His horns were higher than Newt though, reaching up and curving back from his brow. His body was lithe and strong and he had mastered it so well so fast. He could control his body to a level that humans could not, his balance was remarkable and his core strength extraordinary. Percival could walk on his hands without any effort and scale up trees as if merely running. Newt wondered if it had to do with his tail perhaps, adding balance of some sort.  

Either way, Percival was a sleek and powerful creature.

Very handsome as well. Even with his glamor it showed through. Many women flirted with him when they went out in public. Plenty of men as well. All of them drawn in by that easy smile. Percival had a bit of a predator around him as well, seeming in control and confident in all he did and people gravitated to him for it.

Newt supposed it made sense that Percival would take an interest in sex.

He was an incubus after all, Newt should be glad he hadn’t been curious about it as a child. He had a theory that it wasn’t the actual sex but skin contact that incubi sought. Percival seemed to gain something from Newt simply by holding him. His energy renewed in a way that was more than just normal. As if Percival was drawing strength from touching Newt. He never felt worse for it either, never felt drained or tired that he noticed. Newt’s health remained strong and he was hopeful to prove succubus and incubus did not in fact drain life. He had learned so much about the creatures and he was confident he could write a passage on them that was positive and encouraging.

Although he was admittedly a little lacking in their sexual behaviour.

“It’s different with each person,” Newt began, trying to think of a proper way to explain sex to someone whose kind was known for it.

“It can be very emotional and loving, very personal and deep. Or it can be more carnal and less knowing. Some strangers meet and sleep together and never see one another ever again. Others meet and court and wait until they marry for life and have sex only after. Honestly, human sexuality is very wrapped up in morals in most places. But sex feels good, it’s a pleasurable act.”

“Like what?” Percival was watching Newt keenly. As far as Newt knew, Percival hadn’t discovered masturbation. Perhaps Newt should explain that and let him explore. But Percival never wanted to learn things on his own, always wanting a teacher, always hands on. He had never shown any signs either, never asked these questions before.

Newt flushed a touch.

“It’s a base act, like a massage a bit, you rather like those?”

Percival nodded.

With his rapid growth, his body cramped and ached terribly. Newt had gotten into the habit of giving him a good rub down and Percival utterly adored it. All the skin on skin contact seemed to leave him blissed out at the end. His sore joints relaxed and the ach in them soothed for a bit.

“It’s hard to explain sex. It feels good but it’s also more, in it’s own unique way.”

“Have you had lots of sex, mum?”

Newt flushed harder and shook his head in negative.

“Honestly, not very much. A few times with a woman, a few with a man and the night with your sire. I do like sex, but for me, it’s very intimate. I’ve only slept with people I loved, with the exceptions of your father. But everyone is different.”

Newt had loved all the people he had laid with, unfortunately in the end they had all left him. Newt was an oddity and he knew it, traveling the world and not interested in settling when others wanted too. Not that the blame was never his own, when pushed he had made choices of his own. Picking his work and creatures over budding relationships and losing loved ones for that decision. Newt had thought he might never marry and now with Percival was he more certain. His son was all he needed, he had chased away that loneliness in Newt and left him content in a way he had never been before. Newt was certain he would be happy to stay with his child and when Percival was ready to leave him he would be fine with letters and visits. Newt loved his family but he knew the love he had for Percival sat atop all others. 

“People you love,” Percival repeated, thinking on it with a thoughtful expression.

“It means more, I find.” Newt added, not mentioning that the best sex he had ever had was with Percival’s sire. But then, he was an incubus and it was clear they had sexual prowess. Even Percival was seductive without trying, something about him just alluring in that base way.

“There is no real wrong way to go about it, as long as both people are willing.”

Percival nodded, his eyes keen in a way that spoke of months of research ahead. Newt resolved to get his son books on sex from various perspectives. To encourage him however Percival needed, he still might need sex to live one day, after all.

 

Newt began to wake with morning erections.

Percival and Newt still slept together, pressed close with minimum clothing so there was as much skin contact as Newt could give. Percival cherished the touch and it was clear he slept better with it. So as he grew, Newt never suggested they try separate beds, knowing Percival would be against it.

He charmed the bed a bit bigger and they slept together still, curled up tightly every night.

Waking up erect was obviously an issue.

Percival was not a heavy sleeper either. If Newt shifted to get up he would wake.

Currently Newt was laid out his back and Percival was on his side facing him, head pillowed on Newt’s chest, his one horn gently resting on Newt’s throat.

Swallowing, Newt stared up at the roof and willed his body to obey his commands.

Thankfully it went away before Percival woke.

But the next morning he woke the same way. Pressed stomach down into the bed, he could feel his cock hard and needy.

Percival was curled up against him, eyes closed but his tail was slithering up Newt’s bare calf lazily, signaling he was awake.

“Is it late?” Newt yawned and Percival shook his head.

“Be a dear and start tea?” Of the two of them, Newt was the one to be slow to get up so it wasn’t unusual for him to ask Percival to begin breakfast. Smirking, Percival butted Newt’s shoulder playfully and then climbed over him to get up and out of bed.

Once he left the small room, Newt reached down and pressed a hand to his cock, willing it away.

 

It kept happening, near misses mixed with horrid shame.

Because Newt knew why he was getting erect. There was no doubt in his mind, no denial available.

Percival was gorgeous.

Newt’s body didn’t seem to care that it was his son.

Percival just hummed with sexual energy and Newt was responding to it. He was reacting to Percival draped over him every night, snuggled close in nothing but his tight sleeping his pants that were cut high on his muscular thighs. Bare skin warm against Newt’s own.

It was perverse and Newt cursed himself each morning. He began searching for spells for impotence. Trying to find something to ease his lust and help him stop this disgraceful reaction. Perhaps he simply needed to find someone to sate it with. It had been a long time since he engaged in sex. Percival’s sire had been a single night and it had been years before that. Newt never felt a strong urge towards carnal relations though. This was recent and he wondered if it was linked to the fact that Percival was half incubus and in his prime it seemed. Either way, it needed to be controlled.

In desperation, Newt thought perhaps a wank was in order. He hadn’t since he was a young boy but maybe it would help ease the urges.

So he sent Percival off one morning to try and collect the niffler for a fabricated check up, a chore that would take an hour at best. Newt did need to make sure the little beast wasn’t carrying mites or any sort of parasites he supposed. It got out so often, it would be the one to bring them back.

Once Percival was gone for a bit, Newt left his work desk and sat on the bed, undoing his trousers. He unbuttoned his union suit and pulled his cock free. 

Closing his eyes, Newt tried to imagine past lovers, the things about them he had liked. He stroked himself as he pictured their bodies and then the incubus that had impregnated him. Newt tried to recall the feelings of that night, the lust and desire driving him in a way it had never done before. He had been noisy, moaning out and begging for more as the man loomed over him, smirking down and enjoying it all.

Newt bit his lip and ran his free hand up his thigh, thinking of how it felt to be opened up and taken. He rather liked being fucked, liked that his body could give such pleasure to someone. Newt’s cock came around, filling out as he recalled the details. The way the incubus had bitten at his neck as he fucked into him.

His hand tightened a bit and he gave the tip a good squeeze, feeling it run through his whole body, pleasure singing.

A hand on his knee made Newt jerked back, eyes flying open as he attempted to cover himself.

Percival was there.

Kneeling in front of him, the niffler on the desk with a charmed bit of gold that refused to go into it’s pouch and had it thoroughly distracted. Percival was kneeling and sitting back on his legs, he had to have been there for a few moments at least. 

“S-Sorry,” Newt breathed, face burning red but Percival was staring at his cock, head tipped to the side curiously. Newt fumbled, trying to stuff himself back into his trousers and Percival’s hand took his wrists to stop him. His grip wasn’t harsh but he was so much stronger than Newt.

“What does it mean?” Percival whispered and Newt stared at him a moment. A horrid feeling filled him as he realized Percival had no real base education on sex. Nothing beyond the way that reproduction worked and a very rudimentary idea of intercourse.

“It’s…I’m erect,” Newt muttered, feeling his face burn so badly as he pushed through his embarrassment to give his son answers. “A human man will become erect when he’s sexually stimulated.”

Percival made a note of understanding, shifting and Newt realized he was hard as well, his cock pressing against his trousers. He wondered how long it had been happening and why Percival hadn’t told him of it. He never kept things from Newt.

“What were you doing?”

“M-Masturbating, it’s a form of sexual relief.”

Percival blinked, looking surprised and then intrigued.

“Will you show me?” He requested, utterly innocent and Newt ignored his own shame. Percival should know these things, should have known them a while ago.

“Of course,” Newt replied, running a hand through his hair nervously. “it’s…it’s very easy really. You just take hold and stimulate yourself. The friction, you see,” Newt explained weakly. He managed to give his cock a few strokes in demonstration.

Percival opened his own trousers, watching Newt’s hand closely and digging himself out of his underclothing.

He was very large.

It made sense, incubus and all.

His cock was thick and long, hard already with the head dripping a touch.

Newt watched Percival try to replicate the motion, his hand sliding up and then down.

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Percival frowned, looking down and watching his hand move as he tried again.

“The friction, should be…nice.” Newt bit his lip, unable to look away as his son stroked his large cock, up and down, his hand curling around the fat thing.

Percival made an unhappy noise and shifted, his hand coming to clutch Newt’s knee as he spread his own knees on the floor and tried again.

“Better?”

Percival shook his head, looking genuinely frustrated. Newt sighed out, leaning in a bit and Percival’s brow touched his chin.

“Close your eyes and focus, think of something that excites you sexually, a thought or idea.”

Percival obeyed, closing his eyes and pressing a touch closer, his warm breath against Newt’s throat.

“What am I doing wrong, mum?” he muttered, voice discouraged.

“Hush, you have to learn with time, like everyone else,” Newt reassured him.

Without thinking on all the reasons why he shouldn’t, Newt reached out. Poised on the edge of the low bed with Percival kneeling right before him, it was easy to reach down and rest his hand over Percival’s own. Newt showered him how to stroke, building an easy rhythm and Percival’s breath finally hitched in a telling way.

He could feel the pleasure coursing through Percival. His empathy sharing this new sensation. Percival had never masturbated clearly and was enraptured with the new feeling.

“Better now?”

Percival nodded. He swallowed and shifted a bit closer to Newt. His long fingers pulled away and slid back over Newt’s hand, pressing his own fingers to the length of Percival’s cock, Percival’s hand covering Newt’s now.

Fighting terrible urges, Newt let him. He stoked his son’s cock, gripping it more firmly and gliding with the ease of experience. He twisted his wrist at the tip to run the head of Percival’s cock over his palm.

Percival moaned out in reaction, a low sound that rumbled through his chest. He dipped forward, head resting on Newt’s shoulder as his free hand curled around Newt’s hip and gripped onto his shirt like he had as a child. He clung to Newt, shivering as his hips began to push into the motions of his mother’s hand.

It felt good, Newt’s mind trying to understand the pleasure washing over him that wasn’t his own.

“That’s it,” Newt breathed, pressing his cheek to the side of Percival’s head, over his ear, and holding him close as he stroked him a bit faster. “It’s all about sensations, about the feel of your hand and the grip. Some people use oil to make it move easier as well.”

Percival hummed in a way that said he wasn’t hearing a word of what Newt was saying. It was so reminiscent of when Newt rubbed his back that he smiled a bit, endeared.

“Mum,” Percival gasped out, hand clutching Newt’s waist tighter as Percival rose up.

He went from sitting on his heels to up on his knees. Newt had to spread his thighs to accommodate Percival’s hugging and he jerked when Percival’s cock brushed against his own. His exposed prick somehow forgotten.

His grip loosened on his son’s erection and immediately Percival’s hand was pressing him back, gripping at his fingers to keep him holding on. Newt could feel the worry rush to keep him there and so he resumed his motions. 

“It’s good, feels so good,” Percival said, voice soft and hitched, a bit of wonder to his tone.

“Sexual pleasure,” Newt explained quietly in return. He looked down, watching his hand continue to work the long thick cock. Percival was very well endowed, it showed more when his cock was close to Newt’s own. It seemed small and delicate in comparison and he had always thought he was average.

“Like this?”

Percival’s hand reached out and took a loose hold of Newt’s cock. His fingers curled around the length and began to mimic Newt’s motions.

It felt amazing, better than his own hand had ever felt before. How had Percival not felt good under his own hand, when he gripped and moved over Newt so perfectly. 

Newt nodded weakly, face burning as he dropped it to Percival’s shoulder and hid away.

His hand kept moving through, picking up pace and Percival followed him moving faster as well. Anything he did, his son tried to replicate.

Percival’s chest began to rise and drop faster, his breath catching as his hips swayed. Newt could feel him beginning to twitch in his hand, his fingers running over the vein along the underside and feeling it pulse. Percival was close. 

“Mum,” Percival sounded a touch panicked and Newt pressed him closer, their knuckles bumping as they both worked steadily.

“That’s it sweetheart, it’s alright,” Newt soothed as Percival hissed out, dropping his chin on Newt’s shoulder, his free hand still clutching at Newt’s side tightly, holding on to steady himself. The pleasure was building up now, rising to a climax and Percival was loving it but overwhelmed as well. Pushing his emotions onto Newt as he whined out and thrust into his mother’s warm tight hand.

“Don’t fight it, just enjoy it,” he coaxed and Percival shuddered.

With a loud gasp, he came finally. His own hand stopped on Newt’s cock but he didn’t mind, stroking Percival steadily through his first orgasm, moving his wrist and using everything he had to make it good.

Percival came in long spurts, white creamy semen splattering on Newt’s shirt and running down his hand and forearm. Newt cried out as well, the pleasure going too high for him not to come as well. It echoed through him, Percival’s climax roaring through them both and pushing them over together. His own cock laid in his lap, spitting semen as Newt gasped out.

All too soon, Percival slumped forward and panting for breath and trembling in the aftermath of his first sexual experience.

Newt curled his free arm over his son’s shoulders, noting absently that they had gotten so broad. He hushed his child, rocking him a bit until Percival caught his breath and his shaking slowed and stopped. Newt felt just as shaken as Percival was projecting, this new pleasure going between them, wonder of how good such a simple thing could feel.

“Could you be a dear,” Newt requested, pulling back slowly. “And fetch me a warm wet cloth to clean this up?” Newt had gotten most of it, on his hand and arm, along his thigh and up his shirt, long streaks of come clung to him. 

Percival nodded and went readily to get it. Newt could feel the echoing of his contentment, his happiness of this shared experience. 

Newt waited until he was gone before he slumped back onto the bed. Running his clean hand through his hair and then covering his face with his forearm, shame burning through him.

It had been so amazing.

It was clear Percival would want to explore more and expected Newt to be his teacher.

“This is a fine mess,” he whispered to himself softly.

 


	2. Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival never tried to hide that he was an omega.
> 
> He never shouted it on rooftops either.
> 
> He just was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The tags for this chapter are: Alpha/Omega, Top Newt, Bottom Percival, BDSM, Master/Pet, Petplay, pain play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Knotting, Choking, Rough Sex, Dom/sub, Heat, Mentions of Mpreg.**

 

Percival never tried to hide that he was an omega.

He never shouted it on rooftops either.

He just was.

It meant more to him that he was a focused career man, intent on being an excellent auror. On helping to protect all wizards and witches in America. Percival never used his secondary gender to his advantage, to get extra time off or to lure a suspect. He never allowed anyone to treat him less for it either. If he was passed over for promotions he wanted the reasons down on paper. He didn’t hesitate to call anyone out and he never backed down.

Omegas were supposed to submissive and sweet, mind and gentle.

Delicate.

Percival always disliked the notions that anyone, first or second gender, should have to fit into a certain set of characteristics.

It was the modern age, that sort of thinking should be long gone.

Of course, it wasn’t.

But Percival never let it stop him, didn’t think on it and refused to be hindered. He was the Director of Security for MACUSA for his years of hard work. When people commented he was the first omega to hold the position he just smiled tightly, letting them think he didn’t give a damn about it.

That was a lie of course.

Percival was a stereotype, despite his best attempts to avoid it. A firstborn son raised with the hope of an alpha and when he came of age he went into heat. The greatest disappointment he could have ever given his father. It was like a light was turned off, instant and utter. His father was no longer interested in him. Percival wouldn’t be the great auror he had hoped for; he was destined to be someone’s wife.

Some days Percival wondered if his whole life had been dedicated to proving the man wrong, out of spite rather then some good law seeking intention.

Either way, his father had died still bitter and disappointed in him, even as a celebrated and rising auror, he hadn’t been enough.

Percival hated that it mattered.

That he couldn’t ignore that deeply buried hurt, that quiet thing in him that wanted his father to be proud. Having to live with the knowledge that he never had been.

Parents could be so cruel.

Percival’s mother was a model omega, quite, head down, soft-spoken. She married who her parents wanted, bore his children and followed him to his grave, passing a month after his father. Percival had loved her, had always loved her. But they had been at odds, his mother had tried to teach him to be an omega and Percival had never once accepted it. She told him to be calm and he raged, she advised him to be soft and he was as hard as he could be, she suggested he be sweet and he did his best to be bitter. They had never grown close and once she was gone, Percival wondered how much of that was his own fault. How much of it was his mother trying to reach out to her child and her son snarling in reply.

He had two siblings. An alpha sister who kept the Graves family name strong, donated to the right charities and attended the right events, always on the social ball. The youngest of them was an omega brother who married into a respected family and settled at home to have babies endlessly. He was on his sixth already.

Percival tried to get along with them and they did have relationships. But his sister wanted him more in social politics and his brother was such a soft omega that it rankled Percival. He always felt like shit after spending time with them, holding his words or letting them slip and causing conflict between them.

Honestly, he would have ended up a bitter old man if he hadn’t happened upon Newt.

The quirky British alpha was in New York to deliver a book to Goldstein and Percival had been curious about the wizard who saved them all.

Percival had honestly thought maybe the report saying Newton Scamander was an alpha had been mislabelled. The man was so meek and shy, gaze averted as he spoke softly. His suitcase in front of him like a shield, both hands clutching it tightly. It seemed ridiculous that this was the man who had faced and fought Grindelwald himself. That he had been the one to overpower and catch the powerful dark wizard. 

It would be an understatement to say Percival was interested in the man. Because when he double checked, the man was indeed an alpha and he was indeed the one to catch Grindelwald. Anyone who defied expectations was fascinating to Percival. Newt had taught Percival how ignorant he was, wrapped up in his own issues and expectations of genders. That someone, alpha or omega, man or woman, could look soft and indeed be soft but also strong, meek but sure, gentle but powerful. 

It had begun as a professional interest.

But it hadn't stayed that way.

 

“Just a moment,” Newt called to Percival with a smile and wave in greeting. In his other hand, he had a feed bucket and was one foot into the nundu enclosure. Percival nodded and watched him disappear.

Down in the suitcase of highly illegal things, Percival allowed himself a moment of weakness. He could feel the sweat on his brow and he didn’t rush to wipe it away, to try and hide every tiny suggestion something was off. He uncurled his fists and dropped his shoulders slowly, breathing out. The spells to hide his scent lowered and his magic uncurled from the tight ball it had been the last few hours.

Dougal appeared with a sound, peering up at Percival with wide worried eyes. He offered up a bit of fruit and Percival took it with a polite nod of thanks.

At first, he had struggled a bit with the creatures. It was painfully obvious Newt cared about them a great deal and Percival knew next to nothing about magical creatures. He didn’t want to treat them poorly but he didn’t know how to interact with them, each one with its own individual needs and reactions. In the end, he settled on treating them as he would a person. He greeted them and chatted at them as Newt liked to do. He never tried to pet them or treat them like base animals unless Newt suggested it. It seemed to be the right thing to do, Newt smiling happily with his behaviour. After a few months, Percival didn’t even feel foolish to speak to creatures. It was clear that many of them understood him, that there was a strong intellect behind their eyes. It made it that much worse, to know intelligent magical creatures were treated as badly as they were in the world. Percival could understand Newt’s plight to change that. He had even been working on a few ideas to help develop MACUSA laws and policies on the creatures.

“Are you ok?” Newt asked as he approached, far away but already picking up something was off. For all he insisted he was terrible with people, the man was very astute, seeing what many missed in a single look.

“Potion mishap. I was doused while overseeing a raid. I’m fine,” he added to stop the question Newt’s mouth opened to ask. “There was just side effects that have me off my game.”

Newt tipped his head in question and Percival stepped back a touch, feeling uncomfortable. It annoyed him, that this had to be awkward and part of him wished he had just gone and holed up somewhere. But Percival knew there was no real way to do so without hurting Newt’s feelings. A tiny part of him scoffed that he put it on Newt, that he wouldn’t admit it was because he wanted to be with the other man for this. 

“I’m in heat,” he finally sighed, inspecting the table with buckets stacked. Newt was a bit of organized chaos. He seemed messy but knew where everything was at all times. Percival preferred neatness but he made a point to let Newt keep his personal space as he pleased. In return, Newt tried to be neat around Percival’s apartment.

“What do you need?” Newt asked simply, no suggestive tone or leer. No sudden interest in sexual pleasure. Percival wasn’t sure if he appreciated that or if some tiny part of him deep down was disappointed. Heat made everything seem uncertain, part of why he hated it so. 

“The healer suggested I hole up with an alpha of my choice,” Percival snorted and Newt waited still.

“And what do you want?” He inquired. 

Percival felt that little flutter in his chest. Newt was unique in so many ways. Percival wasn’t sure if it was a British thing or just a Newt thing, but the alpha never made assumptions. Never felt entitled to anything Percival didn’t freely give. 

“Honestly, I want a strong drink and a sleeping potion. But that would only make it worst in the end. I need to be fucked and knotted, to be blunt.”

Newt nodded, watching Percival closely. His nostrils gave the tiniest of flares, signalling he could smell Percival’s heat. 

“Shall we prepare then?”

Percival blinked.

“Prepare? Why not just fuck and be done with it?”

Newt blinked, looking somehow aghast and disappointed with the world.

“We can do this however you wish,” he finally said but it was clear he wanted to do something. Percival’s curiosity peeked up, wondering what Newt was thinking. Heats were usually a time of sex, giving in to the need to breed. Three or four days of intense sex. Percival had taken the time off already.

“We can do what you want,” Percival decided. “I’ve never understood the importance of heats and I’ve never cared really. So we can try it your way, change it up.”

Newt peered at him again, another reading look, before nodding his head.

 

Newt’s way was to pamper the fuck out of Percival.

He took care of the case for the night and then came up to the apartment and made dinner. Newt had been self-sufficient for many years and part of that was the ability to cook a decent meal. He made Percival’s favourite, pasta with meatballs and Italian bread. Newt learned his meals from where they originated and sometimes Percival thought Newt would do well in a kitchen as a cook.

They ate and then Newt ran Percival a bath, the water almost burning hot as Percival preferred it to be. Newt poured in concoctions of his own making that eased the strain of the day and cleaned the grime off Percvial's body, leaving him feeling properly clean. It was soothing to feel Newt's fingers washing his hair, massaging lazily and putting Percival to sleep almost. Once they were finished bathing they went to bed early, Newt ushering Percival to lay down on the bed with clean and fresh sheets and let him rub him down. Another of his unexpected skills, working the kinks out of muscles and easing the stress of the day. Newt knew a simple heating spell for his hands that felt divine.  

Percival let him work, his hands digging into his sore shoulder until the pain ease and the knot gave way.

He wanted to enjoy it more, to bask in the affection. But a part of him was whispering about omega weakness, Newt treating him delicately. Even as the care did make him feel better, it had to be tainted with his self-doubt.

“What would you do if I did this all for you? Cooked, bathed, and rubbed you down?”

Newt hummed in reply, digging his fingers until something in Percival’s back cracked and more tension released.

“I would enjoy it of course. You don’t cook very often, but you do know all the best places to eat in the city. I would enjoy a nice bath and shoulder rub, but we both know before long you would be skipping into…. Well.”

“Are you suggesting I’m sex-crazed?” Percival couldn’t even muster real indignation. He knew Newt thought no such thing.

“You’re impatient, it’s part of why you get so much done I imagine.”

Percival didn’t contest that. It was no secret he hated sitting idle.

Sweat was pooling along the dip of his spine, fine lines beginning to run down his skin. Percival was wearing nothing but loose pants. He could feel the slick between his thighs building but ignored it. Newt made no comment either, working away steadily.

“Do you think I’m bad at being an omega?”

Percival knew the answer. He was. Utterly horrid at it. He was nothing like his mother and he never seemed inclined to what other omega’s adored. He was blunt and aggressive and entirely the opposite of everything that made an omega. He didn’t know why he asked, he supposed he was feeling hormonal, his body trying to stir up his feelings.

“Do you think I am a poor alpha?” Newt asked easily. “I’ve been told I am before, not aggressive and assertive, not dominant or powerful.”

“I wouldn’t say you aren’t powerful,” Percival replied. Newt kept himself mild and meek but underneath that was an unbending soul. Newt was gifted in his field, far better than anyone else Percival had ever met. He was a keen intellect and willing to fling himself into danger without blinking if it was to help.

“Would you call me dominant?”

Percival shifted, rolling onto his back under Newt. The man raised his hips and then settled them down, straddling Percival’s stomach.

“You are when you need to be, with your creatures.”

“And with people?”

“You don’t like trouble; you don’t bother with aggression with no point.”

“So you’re less because you don’t hide from confrontation but rather face it. Not an ideal omega because you’re not timid?”

Percival huffed out, reaching out to run his hands up Newt’s thighs. He was still dressed, his shirt sleeves rolled up. With a wave of his hand, Newt’s vest unbuttoned itself and his shirt untucked.

“I try not to worry about it. But how can I not with a potential mate before me?” Percival asked and Newt smiled down at him.

“I have the same worries, that I might not be all you want.”

“You are, you’re such a strange brilliant man and Merlin help me if I don’t adore it.”

Newt flushed in pleasure, smiling sweetly as he pulled off his vest and rolled his sleeves down to get his shirt off entirely.

“Yes well. You are a very intimidating and commanding man, a powerful wizard and distinguished lawmaker. If I was sensible, I would have run in the other direction.”

“And yet,” Percival smirked wryly and Newt returned it.

“And yet,” he agreed.

Leaning down, his pressed an easy kiss to Percival’s mouth and he deepened it immediately, burying a hand in Newt’s messy hair as he pulled him into the contact. He sat up a bit and broke the kiss to roll them on the bed, Newt on his back under Percival now.

He kissed the alpha again, long and lingering as he tasted him thoroughly.

His heat was beginning to rise up, to urge him to sit on a cock and take a nice knot. Percival licked a line down Newt’s jaw and sank his teeth into his neck to suck a nice bruise there. Newt sighed in delight, hands running up and down Percival’s thighs lightly.

Percival inspected the mark and worked on it a bit until it was a nice deep red that would go dark, a clear claim that settled the possessive thing in his gut.

Putting his hands on Newt’s shoulders he sat up, using his weight to push Newt into the bed. The alpha’s eyes fluttered, pupils begin to dilate. Newt truly liked being a submissive, just as much as Percival enjoying being the dominate.

“I’ll fuck you later,” he growled and Newt whined in reply. “Right now I need to ride you, need to be filled up.”

Newt nodded, looking up at Percival like he was something amazing.

It was his heat.

He blamed his heat when he was overcome with a sudden swell of emotion. A long time ago, he had thought that no alpha would look at him with such affection, that no alpha would truly want such a strange omega. Many people told him that his uniqueness made him desirable that a perfect alpha would come along but Percival had spent his whole life without these fables alphas who would want him. It only made sense that he feared Newt might not be real. That his open affection would stir Percival up.

Leaning down, Percival pressed a brief soft kiss to Newt’s mouth and leaned back and sat up. He pressed the curve of his ass down and felt Newt’s erection rub against him.

“Do you want to be in me?”

They switched during sex, both liking to give and take. Newt bottomed more often than Percival though, preferring to be pushed around then doing the pushing.

“Yes,” he replied quickly, just enough strain to satisfy Percival.

“Will you be a good boy?” He teased and Newt nodded.

 

Slick was soaking his pants but Percival ignored it. If he needed to, he would throw Newt down and fuck himself on his cock. But he wanted to push himself, wanted to see how far they could go.

“Shall we play a bit?”

Percival reached out and the drawer across the room slid open, the black leather collar and matching leashing floating to his hand.

Newt was rubbing up against him, looking up at Percival as he smirked.

He took his time sliding the collar around Newt’s neck, a thin omega style, something soft and delicate looking. Percival had picked it out thinking of Newt’s shy smile.

The alpha lifted his head obediently as Percival curled it around his long neck, fingers running along the vulnerable spot. Most alphas would try to guard such a delicate place but Newt tipped his head back more, offering himself up. The trust touched Percival’s heart and the picture of it turned him on. Newt was so damn pretty to look at.

He did the buckle up and then snapped the leash onto the metal ring of the collar.

Percival slowly pulled the leash taut and watched Newt follow it, sitting up as Percival guided him.

He got off the alpha and then the bed, walking on the cold floorboards and pulling the leash. Newt went clumsily. Fumbling over the bed and to the floor, never standing properly, moving on all fours like an animal would.

His cock was visible through his trousers.

Percival pet his hair lovingly, running his fingers through the curls and then down his neck and back.

“Good boy,” he crooned as he stripped Newt down. Undoing his clothing by hand until he was naked and kneeling on the floor, head down submissively with the leash hanging down.

“Such a good boy, my pet, my pretty little darling,” Percival praised, petting Newt’s bare back and feeling him tremble a bit. “Does my pet want to fuck me?”

Newt whined out, never using words when the collar was on unless absolutely necessary.

Percival was down on his knees as well and he reached under Newt to lightly run fingers over his cock. Back and forth he went lazily until Newt broke and thrust against the touch, hips pumping hungrily. 

Percival was sweating steadily but Newt was beginning too as well, feeling the strain of an omega in heat right beside him.

Raising his hand, Percival called another plaything to him, a thick leather strip that he tied at the base of Newt’s cock snuggly, wrapping it around his balls as well. He made it good and tight, enough to ache with a bit of time. It would prevent Newt from coming or knotting up.

“Let’s walk,” he declared once Newt’s cock and balls were bound.

He picked up the leash and stood, giving Newt a moment before he stepped forward. Newt shuddered at the sensation of the binding but moved with him. He crawled beside Percival as he led him around the apartment. Talking down to him the whole time, like a pet, like an animal instead of a man much less an alpha.

It didn’t take long for Newt’s motions to grow sluggish and for his breath to catch. The bindings hurting him more and more as he moved.

Percival led them to the couch and stopped. Newt unquestioningly came to heel beside him, perched and waiting for instruction.

“Lovely thing,” Percival said as he petted his head and then dropped the leash. He undid his loose pants and let them drop, his body exposed now. He could feel the slick on his thighs, his ass soaked with it and the need to be fucked pushing more insistently.

Percival picked up the leash again and sat on the edge of the couch, thighs spread wide as he pulled Newt between them.

Well trained, Newt immediately licked at any skin he could. Long wet lap up Percival’s thigh and then his cock, a warm mouth gently mouthing at his erection.

Percival shoved his head lower roughly, directing him where he wanted him as he slouched back onto the couch with his ass just over the edge.

“Get in there boy, clean me up good,” he directed and pulled on the leash, forcing Newt’s face in between his cheeks.

Newt went eagerly, licking at Percival’s hole, tongue working into him immediately. He licked so hungrily, swallowing down the slick. Percival could see his hips rolling, like a dog humping the air.

“Eager mutt, look at you, desperate to mount, so needy,” he muttered as he arched his back and pushed himself down on that wet hot mouth. 

“Are you excited to breed? Dying to knot and try and knock me up?” Percival’s breath sounded caught, his tone off. He felt something hot inside him slither at the idea of it. Of Newt actually putting a child in him. Percival had never thought he would have kids but with Newt he found himself rethinking that. Newt would make such a good father, a doting soft man who could make up for everything Percival lacked.

Groaning out, Percival’s eyelids felt heavy as he shoved down on Newt’s face and pulled the leash hard to force him closer. He held it under his thigh so it wasn’t in the way of Newt’s tongue, working hard to please Percival.

“You want that my boy? Want to be a stud male, a real alpha?”

Percival was getting off to his own words, to the idea of Newt fucking him hard and knotting deep.

The tongue in his ass suddenly wasn’t enough.

Percival grabbed Newt by the hair and shoved him back. He fell onto his ass, panting, his gaze dark with lust as he licked his lips to get every bit of slick.

Something about the sight of that tongue licking his slick of Newt’s own face made Percival even wetter, his heat taking control now. It was different from previous times though. This was their first shared heat and Newt felt far different. Percival had always hated the sensation of heat taking over, of his control giving way to the need to mate. But it didn’t feel repulsive with this alpha, Newt wasn’t the sort to see this as Percival relinquishing anything. It was just his body needing something and Percival taking it. He felt more certain than any heat before this, perhaps this was what love felt like?

Percival slipped off the couch, moving forward to straddle Newt and shoving him down onto his back on the floor. He rubbed his ass over the alpha’s bound erection, feeling something shiver in delight inside him.

“You want to breed boy?”

Newt whined out, voice strained with the utter desperation in him. His hips shoved up at Percival, his control splintering as well.

Percival hummed out, closing his eyes and just feeling that cock prod as his ass over and over. Newt whimpered in frustration, unable to get in without a hand to guide him. When he was a pet, he wasn’t allowed to use his hands and kept them at his sides.

Part of Percival wanted to drag it out more, but his heat refused to wait any longer.

Reaching back, he undid half of the leather wrap, freeing Newt’s cock but not his balls. He couldn’t knot like this. Percival guided him into his dripping hole, feeling that burn as he was opened up and hissing out at how good it felt. Like stepping into a full bathtub of the perfect temperature water.

Newt slammed up into him, like a beast would. No control, not even trying to hold back as he shoved up.

Percival took the leash and wrapped it around his fist tightly.

“Stop.”

Newt sobbed out.

“Stop,” Percival snapped with more command and Newt obeyed him. He laid under him still, body trembling with the strain of not fucking into the wet omega heat around his prick. Panting and shaking as Percival watched him. 

As slow as he could stand to go, Percival rode him, back and forth, feeling the cock inside him, feeling it slide against his insides and open his body up each time he went in.

He peered down at Newt, eyes half closed as the alpha did everything not to thrust up. Percival kept the leash taut as he leisurely built up a harder rhythm. Sliding up faster and dropping down with less care, letting his weight shove him down.

Percival’s heat was coiling and he knew the game would give soon. 

Newt broke first.

He moved so fast, so unexpectedly and Percival could only grunt out in surprise as he was thrown back without the cock in him pulling out. He landed on he back with a thump and Newt was over him, suddenly pounding in as hard as he could. Percival groaned out at the delicious feeling of it.

“Bad dog,” he growled but his heat was too strong for him to punish Newt right then.

His face was buried against Percival’s neck, scenting and puffing out hard breathes as he slammed in over and over. He kept his hands slack, not using them to grip, still trying to be a pet.

It was a feral mating, so rough and primal. Percival groaned out without meaning to, on hand reaching to grip Newt’s shoulder tightly, the other still wrapped around the leash. Percival's nails dug into Newt's skin and the alpha groaned out so sweetly, gasping and whining as he hammered into Percival so savagely.

Newt fucked so hard, so determined and heat crazed.

Percival wished he had more time to tease him and really break the alpha in. But his body refused to be denied. Newt was doing exactly what it wanted, taking him with every intention of knotting.

Newt whined out, voice so strained and Percival felt a rumble of delight answer in his chest. He reached down, his magic too unstable to use in the moment. Instead, he used his fingers to untie the last bindings and let Newt finally knot him.

The change was immediate, Newt thrusting more tightly and deeper motions, trying to stay inside Percival but also wanting to keep moving.

Percival just enjoyed it all, letting Newt do the work as they both raced to the finish line.

His body building up with every lunge and the loud slap of skin on skin. It was wet and lewd with Percival so soaked with slick.

Percival grunted as Newt began to thrust with his full weight, shoving him up each time he rammed in. Reaching out, he grasped Newt’s collar at the back of his neck. He stuck two fingers under it, like a bad dog being dragged. He yanked Newt back hard and heard him choke out, his hips stuttering at the pain. Percival rolled them once more, sitting on Newt’s cock as he fucked up into him still. Percival panted, sweat dripping down his chin as he took hold of the leash and pulled it tightly, Newt straining to sit up to meet it but also trying to find his balance to keep pounding into Percival.

“Trying to knot my pet?” He taunted. “Trying to breed me, stud?”

Newt whined out, sounding so urgently broken and Percival groaned out in answer. Feeling the knot begin to pull at his asshole and the pleasure that came with it.

“That's it darling, knot me good. Try your best to breed me up.” Percival’s hand gripped the leash like a lifeline, feeling it steady him. It was like a tiny measure of control, the only thing grounded him as he was fucked like an animal and gagging for it the whole time.

The more the knot filled, the more the light behind Percival’s eyes flashed with each thrust.

Fuck, it felt so good. Just what he body wanted, like popping a sore joint or taking a long drink when he was thirsty. His whole body eager and receptive.

Percival rammed himself downward, meeting Newt as he shoved up.

It was rushing to meet them now, the knot pulsing as Percival growled out frantically.

He came with a snarl, half choking Newt with the leash as he felt the knot tie inside his ass. Locking them together so Newt could dump his load of seed inside Percival’s body.

The pleasure throbbed for a long drawn out moment, everything falling away as pleasure ruled over all for a few perfect seconds.

It drifted back slowly, his body still feeling good but the pleasure receding a touch.

Percival let the leash go slack and Newt gasped out, drawing deep breathes as Percival slumped over him, keeping his ass down in the alpha's lap and their bodies snuggly tied. He rested his head on Newt’s chest, his hair damp with sweat, it ran down his face and dripped onto Newt’s skin. The alpha was no better, trying to catch his breath still and gleaming with sweat.

“Fuck, I think I love you,” Percival muttered out, a confession against Newt’s skin. The alpha sucked in a breath, hands reaching out to gently touch Percival’s shoulders and curl around him in careful comfort. Sometimes Percival didn't want to be touched but in that moment it felt good. He stayed relaxed and so Newt held him close.

Everyone before Newt had felt patronizing, like they were mocking Percival for being weak. Pointing out his flaws as an omega bitch.

Newt was the only human being to make him feel…safe. Content where he was, happy even. Just to be with another human being, no need to impress or control, just the two of them, simply…being.

It felt stupid and silly and far too long coming, but Percival thought he might understand a bit, why omegas where happy to just be with their alphas. He would never agree with it or want it for himself, but he could appreciate it for the first time. The strange and utter calm that was spreading over him to have Newt holding him so close as they were locked together so intimately.  

This was love, Percival was certain of that. Hormones and emotions be damned, he didn’t care if he was weak or acting too omega, Percival loved this man. Wanted a lifetime with him and maybe even a child, a tiny version of Newt. Percival could suddenly see it in his mind's eye so clearly, Newt laughing and picking up a toddler who was equally excited to see him.

Not this heat, but maybe one day.

Percival’s breath evened out and he slowly lifted his head from Newt’s chest, the alpha peering at him with such open devotion.

“Even if I am in love with you,” Percival rasped, looking down at his alpha. “That doesn’t mean you’re not going to get punished thoroughly for acting up like that.”

Newt’s gaze took on that eager edge, even knotted and pumping Percival full, he was ready for the next round.

“Disobedient pet’s get punished,” Percival announced, thinking of all the terrible ways he would make Newt so sorry, turn him into a begging mess. His perfect alpha, the dedicated submissive who loved to sob and come apart under Percival’s firm hand.

He made Percival sincerely glad to be an omega for the first time in his life, happy to be his matching half. To be able to form the alpha omega bond between them and cultivate it into something strong and certain.

His pretty alpha.

Percival’s hand gripped the leash tighter, feeling the leather bite into his palm. Newt so clearly happy and content to be on the end of it.

His.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked writing this one, I need to write more bottom Percy, topping Newt even as he fucks him. >;3


	3. Dark AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival pulled all the files they had pertaining to magical creatures and noticed the reappearing factors. Not too constant, not enough to stand out but there when looked for. Cases where magical creatures were certain to be involved and then nothing was found. Smugglers found dead thought to be other criminals or the creatures turning on them.
> 
> It wasn’t just New York either. Percival found files all over America over the last decade. He was willing to bet the cases were occurring all over the world. 
> 
> A champion for magical creatures.
> 
> Someone not hesitating to kill smugglers and poachers, anyone, regardless of status, who was abusing creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark Newt is so interesting!
> 
>  
> 
> **Tags for this chapter are: Dark Newt, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Drugging, Bondage, Dark, Violence, Minor Torture.**

Percival first saw him on a stakeout.

They were trying to catch a new crime ring rising up and Percival was there himself to ensure no one fucked it up. He watched the old no maj warehouse from across the street, sipping a coffee at a restaurant he had been coming to for weeks now. Everything had been meticulously planned and this was their one chance to catch the slippery head of the smugglers setting up in New York.

Percival was so intent on going over the plans that he almost missed him, a blink and it was over moment where someone stepped out of the warehouse and into the people walking on the street. It was the busy midday with evening fast approaching and people rushing around. Percival watched the man in a blue coat cross the street and step into the restaurant he sat in.

He didn’t look like a criminal; didn’t look like the men they were following. All hard-eyed and rough looking dark wizards. 

This one looked a touch dainty. Carrying a worn suitcase and peering around the restaurant as if he had never seen one before. He walked up to the counter and Percival watched him explain something, the server looking confused but nodding along.

The man waited beside the counter after he paid, holding his suitcase and looking very much forgettable like he was part of the background.

He was nice looking, Percival noted absently. It kept his eye when normally he would have dismissed him already. 

A handsome sort of pretty that just begged for him to be spread out on a bed and moaning like a whore. Percival liked that sort, liked the ones who seemed like they could be ruined.

He drank his coffee and watched the warehouse, nothing seeming to happen yet. It was almost time though, when they would do their change out. They would hit them then, arrest as many of them as they could.

When he looked back, the man was accepting a heaping bag from the server. A big brown paper bag that he hefted in one arm and then stepped out and walked away. Seeming to take in the buildings and looking around with a distinct tourist look about him.

Percival watched him go and after a moment disregarded him. Perhaps he hadn’t seen it clearly and it only seemed like the man had stepped from the warehouse. Perhaps he was lost or something similar. Either way, he wasn’t who they were looking for.

Percival got up from his spot and went to pay for his coffee, attention on the warehouse. His aurors began to leave their positions around the street and make their way over for the raid to begin.

“It’s paid for,” the server announced, catching his focus sharply. 

“What?”

“That man paid for it, he came in and bought twenty burgers without buns and paid for your coffee.”

Percival blinked and felt his hackles rise.

He left the restaurant and cast the spells so the no maj wouldn’t notice anything odd. With a hurried step he pointed his wand and slammed the large warehouse loading doors open.

His suspicion was right.

His aurors followed him but there was no one there to fight them.

No one left alive at least.

The criminals, almost twenty of them, where all dead on the ground.

Percival frowned at them and barked orders to secure the area before he apparated after the blue coat man.

He was nowhere to be found.

Feeling stupid, Percival returned and oversaw the cleanup. The heads of the ring were all there, putting an end to their attempts to start up a dark wizard black market in the city. Percival went back to the Woolworth building and worked on other things until the paperwork came in.

The men had all been poisoned. Nundu breath had killed the whole lot.

It almost seemed like a screw up on their part but if so, where the hell was the nundu? Perhaps they were trying to bottle its breath or transporting it with a spell and messed up in some way. But the man in blue coat spoke otherwise.

Percival went over the report and noticed right away that no magical creatures had been confiscated. They had surveillance that proved there were creatures there, along with illegal potions and various dark spell books. Everything else was recovered but there was no trace of the creatures. It was possible they had been moved already but Percival’s mind kept going back to the man.

Burgers without buns. Meat. He had bought food for an animal.

The old suitcase, unassuming. Percival had seen smaller containers hold far larger things in his time. Entire rooms in cigarette cases.

He had walked right in front of Percival and he had known it too. Had paid for his coffee to mock him.

Percival cursed and tossed the report onto his desk in annoyance.

 

Seven months later they met again.

A large society event of all things.

The best of the best in New York all gathered in one of the wealthiest families houses to dine and dance the night away. Percival was there making connections and building bridges to help him politically. The more people on his side the easier it would be to get new laws passed that would help him do his job.

“Anyway, the no maj actually tried to attack me. I had to give him a good petrify spell to stop him,” some rich man was saying to a group Percival was part of. He sipped his wine absently and nodded along.

“What’s the world coming to, when they’re getting so aggressive and breeding so much, more and more of them every day.”

The groups muttered in soft agreement, looking around as they shared an unpopular opinion.

MACUSA was having trouble with people of their like. More people crying out against the secrecy laws that seemed to fear based at times.

“The laws are in place for a reason,” Percival reminded them. “But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t grow with us, change as we do.”

The group agreed eagerly, pleased a powerful man saw their point of view. It would win him favour later on.

Percival didn’t really disagree with the issue of no majs and the trouble they made, but he knew saying it outright would land him in hot water. So he spoke around it carefully and those who were clever heard the meanings under his words.

Percival lifted his wine to drink and noticed a bit of copper curly hair in the corner.

A waiter was standing, head down meekly as he offered a plate of some finger food to people who passed him by.

He bore a resemblance to the blue coat man, the hair the same shade and colour. That pretty face Percival had admired last time, high cheekbones and a full lush mouth. 

But they were at a high society event, everyone was thoroughly vetted and the chances that anyone with a criminal past was there was slim to none.

Percival turned his gaze away, wondering if he was developing a thing for redheads or simply still mad about being bested.

A scream took his attention, a woman sobbing hysterically. Percival found the source over in the large halls of the city mansion and he hurried to investigate. He handed his wine glass to the redhead absently, his gaze down meekly still. Percival almost paused, sure it was the man, but he second-guessed himself and the screaming took his focus.

The lady of the house was clutching her husband’s body, sobbing wildly. The man was laid out on the carpet, face purple with obvious poison and clearly dead.

Percival swung back to the waiter and found no one there.

Cursing, he took chase but came up empty, the man once more gone without any trace.

Percival returned when the authorities arrived, healers taking the body away as the aurors asked the guest questions. Percival frowned at the spot the man was found, right in front of a set of closed doors.

Percival unhinged one knob and opened it up carefully, ready for any sort of spell.

The room was filled with cages and displays. Magical creatures of all sorts stuffed and posed around the room. Percival walked in, peering around and aware everything was highly illegal.

He stopped short, frowning at a cage and approaching to inspect it. Sure enough, it was empty. There was nothing in the cages around the room but evidence that there had been something until very recently, water and food bowls still filled.

Around the back of the room was a wall of bottles, various bits and pieces of creatures collected for potions. There was a runespoor recently gutted on a tray, bled out for its magical blood and its teeth pulled.

“You can’t be in here, this room should be locked,” A boorish voice announced and Percival took his time turning around. The eldest son of the house stood at the door, going pale when he realized who Percival was.

“It would make sense,” he agreed. “To lock up the room teeming with illegal goods.”

Percival didn’t hesitate to confiscate the entire room and charge the family with illegal possession of magical creatures and banned potions ingredients. It caused a rumble in some circles but Percival didn’t worry about it. He couldn’t overlook something so bluntly unlawful right in front of his face.

It was bizarre that the doors hadn’t been locked and spelled shut. But the body was right in front of them, as if pointing to the room. It couldn't have been chance, he was sure he had been shown why the man had been killed.

Percival made up a proper file on the blue coat, noting his copper hair and ability to blend in. He pulled all the files they had on magical creatures and Percival noticed the reappearing factors. Not too constant, not enough to stand out but there when looked for. Cases where magical creatures were certain to be involved and then nothing was found. Smugglers found dead thought to be other criminals or the creatures turning on them.

It wasn’t just New York either. Percival found files all over America over the last decade. Someone suspected but no real proof or leads. He was willing to bet the cases were occurring all over the world. 

A champion for magical creatures.

Someone not hesitating to kill smugglers and poachers, anyone, regardless of status, who was abusing creatures.

 

“Copper?” Gnaklak snorted as he sipped his drink across from Percival at a small table. They were in a back room where no one would see the Director of MACUSA Security down in the mud with the criminals.

“Copper?” Percival repeated. He liked Blue Coat better.

“British, buys up magical creatures and has no problem killing people for ‘em. He’s been around for years, all over the world too. He’s crazy for his pets, collects them up and gets real pissed if someone’s hacking them up and that sort. He keeps to himself, comes around for contacts and information sometimes. Pays well and never turns on you.”

Percival listened carefully, tucking it all away.

“Any name? Any locations?”

Gnaklak snorted again, shaking his head in negative.

“He’s slippery as a snake, never been one to get pinned down. Those that do chase after him always vanish. Some turn up dead but most just disappear. Most think he feeds them to his pets. We call him Copper other have called him Creature guy or Monster man, he has lots of names. That's the sort who knows how to hide.”

 

And so began Percival’s new side project. Learning more about this man, finding new bits of information and discarding what was proven lies.

British was the only personal fact he had. A copper-haired man from Britain. Usually in a blue coat. Percival made up a few sketches and added them to the files.

He didn’t let it distract him but as the months went by he would look into the files pertaining to magical creatures and see if anything new could be added.

A hobby of sorts he supposed.

 

The next time they met, Percival was strapped to a chair, tied with ropes to restrict his magic, and beaten bloody. Broken fingers, a busted ankle, long cuts along his thighs and chest. He could barely see straight from being punched in the face and head so much, but he was still glaring up at the men around him. Two thugs and one leader, a criminal kingpin who had decided Percival needed a good hard lesson. Of course, if Percival got out of this, he would personally hunt this bastard down and kill him himself. An accident while they were taking him down or something of that sort. He would die for this Percival thought grimly. 

“You just couldn’t listen, couldn’t take the bribe. I know you’re not some perfect auror, you’ve dirtied those hands,” the man grunted at him, sitting in a chair and watching the thugs work Percival over.

He cracked open a bottle of whiskey and took a long drink, watching Percival. He stared back, not letting the pain distract him from glaring.

“I’m not a fool. I know if I leave you alive I’ll pay for it,” He sneered at Percival. “I paid some dirty aurors to set you up and they carted you out here. You’re going to die, because of your own people. I wanted you to know that.”

The dark wizard drew his wand and stood, the thugs stepping back as he pointed it at Percival.

He immediately noted the tremble of the wand.

Percival watched it waver and fall, the man gasping out painfully as he went down to his knees, clutching at his throat.

The thug on the right jerked and cried out, twisting around to look behind him.

“Something bit me!” He hollered and the second thug hissed, grabbing at his leg. Percival saw the red tip of a snake’s tail as it disappeared into the dark shadows of the room. It was some sort of storage room, old boxes and crates stacked around, a single light hanging overhead Percival. Plenty of places for something small to hide.

He sat there and watched them, gasping and writhing in pain.

About five minutes later, they were all dead.

“That was tedious,” A low English accent announced. Someone stepping out behind Percival from who knows where.

“Do you have any idea how hard is to poison a group while leaving a single person perfectly fine?”

He tipped his head to the side and a gentle hand carded through his hair, blood sticking it to his skull. Percival’s head was tipped back and a potion came to his lips. The heady scent of a healing potion hit his nose and he drank greedily. Each gulp eased the pain in him, chasing away all the hurt with a powerful speed. It was a strong potion to work so fast.

“Better now?” The man asked, stepping into view.

The blue coat man smiled shyly, crouching down to inspect Percival’s thighs. The cuts across them healed, the skin knitting back together. He picked out pieces of fabric so Percival’s skin could heal properly.

“Why?”

The man shrugged one shoulder.

“You’re a good man I suppose, a realistic one too, which is even rarer.”

He stood up and shrugged off his coat, pulling the other chair over so he could settle his coat over the back.

“You’re also very lucky that this fellow liked to torture creatures for fun, I’d been trying to get him for a month and when I came here today I saw them bringing you in.”

He tipped his head, peering at Percival while not meeting his gaze. It was bizarre but he seemed almost shy, meek as he stood among three men he had just brutally killed.

“Do you believe in fate? I’ve been to New York only three times in the last year and a half and every time, I’ve run into you, Mr. Graves.”

“It’s rude,” he grunted back, his head was fuzzy but he managed to keep a bit of sense in his skull. “That you know my name and I don’t know yours.”

The man smirked, visibly seeing the words for what they were.

“Too true,” he agreed lightly. “My name is Newt.”

Obviously fake.

Percival sucked in a breath when the man sat in his lap without warning. Percival was still tied in the chair, hands behind him and bound tightly. The man sat facing him, thighs spread on either side of Percival. His elbows rested on Percival’s shoulders, a loose hug as he peered at him, eyes still lowered as he did such a bold thing.

“I suppose there was another reason for saving you,” he admitted softly and leaned in to kiss Percival.

It was painfully sweet. Something an inexperienced teenager would do, all gentle and soft, not hard and hungry. A first kiss.

It shocked him when Percival leaned into it, kissing back, pressing hard and making it turn lewd. The man, Newt, tasted good though, he had a faint taste of mint and his mouth was pliant and willing. When Percival opened his mouth Newt followed and let him slid his tongue in for a deeper kiss. Tipping his head to slot their mouths better, Percival took as he pleased and felt the man give it up without complaint.

His cock was filling out in his torn trousers, arousal rushing through his body in a way that wasn’t natural.

“You gave me something,” he muttered against the man’s lush mouth. Newt nodded his head easily, not denying it.

“To make sure you let me leave, something to stir you up a bit is all, it’ll fade in a few hours time.”

“Lust potion, I didn’t taste it at all.”

“I’m rather good at making sure you can’t taste or scent my potions,” Newt offered. He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Percival’s mouth and the innocent touches only made him want to fuck him that much more.

“You’re going to leave me like this?”

Newt smirked, still meek looking even with that devious tip of his mouth.

He sat back, rolling his hips on Percival’s lap, teasing his cock as it strained needily.

“Fuck you,” he growled out, feeling the pleasure and lust mess with his mind. He closed his eyes to try and focus but the potion was potent and working well.

“Perhaps next time, if you manage to impress me,” the man replied, his British accent sounding so bloody smug.

He pulled away and Percival opened his eyes to glare at him, expecting the man to be leaving. Instead, he was kneeling down. His long fingers ran along Percival’s spread thighs. His legs tied apart so they could cut into the skin inside his thighs where it really hurt. He was lucky they hadn’t decided to have a go at his cock.

Newt’s fingers worked up along his thighs and Percival’s muscles jerked under the touch, tightening and flexing as the man took his time.

“Would you like me to blow you?” Newt asked, looking up at Percival, resting his chin on his knee and looking so damn adorable and horridly arousing.

“What am I supposed to say to that?”

“You’ve been doused but not enough that consent is completely gone. I would like to open your pants and suck you off, but I won’t do so without your permission.”

Percival scoffed, staring down at the pretty man as he waited calmly. He was tempted to spit on him or curse him out, to snarl and be cruel. But his cock was throbbing and that mouth looks like it was made to suck cock. Nothing about Newt was mocking him now, he wasn’t amused and wanting to see Percival break. His gaze was on the bulge in his trousers, looking truly like he would like to have it down his delicate throat.

“By all means,” Percival finally said, slumping in the chair the tiny bit he could, rolling his head back to suck in a breath and watch the man react.

Newt smiled again, something shy and warm as he moved in, crawling on his knees to get between Percival’s thighs properly.

“I’ve been interested in you, since we met. You’re an interesting man, Percival Graves. A very handsome one too.”

“Why thank you,” he shot back, playing this polite game, as if they were talking of the weather in a café instead of a dirty storage room with one of them undoing the other’s pants.

“This is probably one of the more reckless things I’ve ever done, but I thought, perhaps if I just had a taste of you, I might be able to stop thinking so much about you,” Newt explained as he brought Percival’s hard cock out. His warm breath ghosted along it and his grip was firm and felt wonderful.

Newt leaned down, his mouth opening and his pink tongue coming out to give the head a little flick, taking the bead of come pooling there. Percival couldn’t look away, transfixed as the man rubbed the tip of his erection along his full lips, tongue peeking to taste him.

“I’m a bit worried this might only make me want to see you more,” he huffed out just before he took Percival’s prick into his warm wet mouth. His tongue welcomed it, rubbing along the underside as it slid in.

He looked innocent but he was far from it, no one inexperienced could have slid down on a cock that smoothly. More and more of it disappearing between those pretty lips.

Percival groaned out unwillingly, feeling that mouth close and begin to suck at him, the pressure of it feeling amazing. It had been too long he thought dazedly, since he had been sucked off or fucked someone. Too many hours spent working and not enough finding some pretty thing to pound.

Newt bobbed his head easily, seeming to savour it as he sucked nice and hard while pulling back slowly. He came off the head with a wet slurp, licking his lips as his fingers curled around the length and pumped it a few times, using the spit to make the motion smooth.

“Very nice, you should be proud,” he mused and Percival swallowed a chuckle. He knew he had a large cock, it seemed crazy for this man to be complementing it in this bizarre situation. He wasn’t trying for sensuous talk, wasn’t batting his lashes or anything. He wasn’t trying to seduce Percival at all and something about that was dragging him in hard. Newt was like someone exploring, taking his time, gaze fixed on the cock before him as he licked up the side like it was hard candy.

His tongue was a tease but his hand worked the length politely, keeping it feeling good as Percival felt his body strain against the ropes. His hips wanting to thrust up into the pleasure. 

“There’s something about the smell here, something so primal and utterly good,” Newt commented, pressing his nose to the base of Percival’s cock and scenting him.

“Fuck, you suck cock often?” He asked, his voice rough but he had to say something. He couldn’t listen to the unintentional dirty talk much longer without blowing like a schoolboy.

“Not very much, I don’t have a lot of time for this sort of activity and in my field trust is very rare.”

Percival grunted, pulling at the ropes to point them out.

“Yes well, I’m not keen on being arrested,” Newt pointed out as he licked up the entire length of Percival’s erection, from the base right to the very tip. He struggled not to react but his thighs quivered tellingly.

Newt’s mouth took him back in and he began to suck him off, moving his head since Percival was tied to the chair and couldn’t properly ride his face.

That mouth was fantastic, wet and hot, spit running down his chin as he worked. That little messy touch just made it that much hotter for Percival. He wanted to face fuck this man. To have him tied in place as Percival rammed down his throat until he came. To make him cry and gag.

Newt sucked in a long breath through his nose and then he was pushing down, letting Percival slide all the way down into his throat as if he read his mind.

Percival’s head dropped back, he groaned out and his hips bucked in their constraints.

Newt’s nose touched down at his base, his cock properly buried in his throat as he swallowed at it.

Far too soon, Newt pulled off, sitting back and letting the cock come free from his mouth completely. Long strings of spit still connected his mouth to Percival’s cock and he licked at them absently. Leaning in to rub the head on his lips and cheek, smearing the spit and Percival hissed at the dirty sight.

Newt glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time, his gaze startlingly piercing and focused, even lust hazed as they were.

He looked at Percival as he took his cock back into his mouth and sucked it down again.

He pushed it in deep and Percival surprised them both by coming suddenly. Moaning out through gritted teeth as he shuddered and pumped his load out. His cock pulsing hard.

Newt adjusted immediately, sucking him down and drinking it, his throat working as he made it feel wonderful for Percival, letting him come good and hard.

He panted a bit, sucking in air as Newt took the last few shots of come. Slumping in his chair, Percival felt the lust potion still but the need was far less urgent.

Newt took his time, cleaning Percival’s cock with his mouth and letting it soften before pulling off finally. He tucked him back into his trousers gently.

“I suppose you would like some reciprocation?” Percival said as he stared at the bulge in Newt’s trousers.

“Perhaps one day,” Newt replied, again surprising Percival as he pulled his coat back on. Newt took a knee on the floor and put out a hand, tapping the floor once and waiting utterly still. A moment later, a red snake slithered from the shadows and into his waiting hand. It coiled around his wrist and settled calmly as Newt gently lifted it and moved it into his pocket carefully. It was obvious he adored his creatures a great deal.

“You have a limited time I’m afraid. His son,” Newt glanced at the dead leader. “Will come looking for his father soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Percival replied, pulling on the ropes.

“If you get caught, you will be killed,” Newt announced seriously. Percival didn’t doubt it, he was hurt and drained, even healed his body ached. He was in no condition to try and fight his way out.

“You’ll find a window just outside this door which you can use to get to the ceiling and then locate the fire escape on the west end of the building. From there you simply need to make it somewhere safe.”

Percival watched Newt lean in, fingers touching the magical rope and undoing the spell on them. They went slack and Percival yanked an arm free immediately. Newt blinked and before he could leap back, Percival grabbed his coat lapel and pulling him down.

He kissed him roughly, a good proper thing, hungry and with intent.

“The next time I see you, I’m going to enjoy making you beg as I fuck you.”

Newt looked surprised a second more and then smiled, his eyes so intrigued as Percival let him go.

“I can honestly say I look forward to it. Good evening Mr. Graves.”

“Please, call me Percival.”

Newt nodded again and then disappeared through the door. Percival didn’t have time to linger, rushing to get out of the ropes and sit up, ignoring the pain of his muscles as he made his way to the door. Sure enough, there was a window across the hall.

Newt was long gone and who knew which way. There was no time to try and chase him.

He followed the directions and made it to his own private safe house. Percival contacted his most trusted and sent them to raid the apartments he had been kept in. He had survived and now he would track down everyone who had a hand in it and bring them to justice or put them out of their misery.

He took a long drag of a potion to cleanse his body of lingering potions effects and then a shot of whiskey.

He was ashamed to have let the man blow him like that but knew he couldn’t properly regret it. He had the memory of that pretty mouth on his cock and that intense gaze looking at him. He couldn’t really regret such a gift.

He pulled off his torn clothing, dropping them to the floor down the hall as he made his way to the bedroom. He would change and then head in to bring hell down upon those who would betray him.

He paused when he felt something in his pocket, a piece of paper that hadn’t been there. He pulled it out, peering at the folded note curiously.

Opening it, he found a list of three names, aurors he knew and worked with, one he even considered a friend. The writing was poised and elegant, something about it fitting Newt perfectly. Percival didn’t doubt for a second that these weren’t the people who turned on him. Newt was the criminal and a killer but Percival was strangely certain he wasn’t a liar. Wasn't trying to manipulate Percival in some way.  

Smirking at the sweet gift, Percival let himself have a moment of weakness and pressed his lips to the paper, recalling that innocent first kiss.

Such a darling man.

Percival couldn’t wait to hear him beg.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark Newt needs more fic. So many more.


	4. In Public

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Scamander,” Percival repeated, testing the name.
> 
> “The god who resides here, who looks after this village.”
> 
> “God, you think a god lives here?” He couldn’t stop the incredulous tone and the man just smiled mildly as if Percival was some child refusing common knowledge.
> 
> “What does this… god want with me?” Percival asked, trying to keep calm and level headed. The chance that he was going to live was slim but it might still be there. He would chase it until his very last breath.
> 
> “The village is going to sacrifice you to him tonight,” came the reply that had Percival’s gut sinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tag for this chapter: Ritual Sex, Ritual Public Sex, Death Rituals, Minor Character Death, Beheading, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Biting, Feral Behavior, Rope Bondage, Human Sacrifice, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Implied Mpreg, Magical Bond, Magical Tattoos. Magical Drugging, Extremely Dubious Consent.**

Percival snoops into the wrong cases and gets sent to the middle of a jungle in Mexico for it.

He knows something dirty is going on among the higher law positions of MACUSA. Bribes are being taken at the very least. At the worst they people who lead the security and safety of them all are corrupt.

Percival’s a good auror and he’s worked hard to get where he is. But he also believes in justice and law and that’s turning out to be a bad thing for him if he wants to climb the ladders at MACUSA. Too many people are dirty and don’t want anyone clean nosed among them. So when Percival turned down bribes and ignored threats and began digging for names, he found himself suddenly and abruptly assigned to some far off case out of the country.

Mexico wasn’t even theirs to mind, but they were trying to build a good relationship and so when asked, someone was sent.

Percival to be precise.

To hunt down some myth about a growing group of rogue wizards and witches, reeking havoc in the jungles and disregarding the laws given to them. It was beginning to affect the secrecy that protected all wizards and witches and so MACUSA took it seriously.

Still, Percival knew he was sent because they wanted him out of their hair.

Sent because the last four aurors who investigated had all disappeared without a trace, presumed dead.

So Percival was sent in with a team to figure out what the hell was going on down in the humid jungles he knew little about.

 

Things went to shit about a week in.

None of the locals were talking but there was a fear in their eyes. Whispers of old gods and monsters that would get them. Percival knew the stories, long disproved creation stories that all magic born people came from the gods who laid with humans. Gods who never appeared again on earth for no reason at all. Nonsense for the most part but there were fractions all over the world that still believed in the idea. They held it close like the no maj clung so feverously to their religions and it was best to step with care and respect.

Either way, no one would give them any concrete information and Percival was beginning to wonder if the other aurors had just given up and went to start new lives rather then keep at this useless hunt.

The jungle was hot as hell and even with cooling spells his body was beginning to feel the strain. As they moved inward from the sea, the heat only sweltered. Percival found himself lingering in the shade on his own when he could. The other aurors with him were clearly there to pump him for information on his intentions back home or possibly to make sure he never returned. He didn’t trust any of them and so kept to himself, struggling to lead an impossible task with a group who might stab him in the back at any moment.

Delightful.

Percival leaned against a tree and sighed out, seeing the others in the camp, huddled together and talking lowly.

Almost certainly planning how to ambush him.

Percival’s boot knocked something when he shifted and he blinked down at the remains of an egg. Keeping an eye on his aurors, he bent down to inspect his findings. The egg was silver lined on the inside, which just screamed magical creature.

They were told to bring in any creatures they could, to kill them and bring the corpses back. Percival wasn’t entirely in agreement with that. There was no reason to kill everything they found on sight. No reason to hunt creatures that weren’t causing a fuss. Why should the none magical beasts be left alone but those with magic killed? It felt too much like the hunting their own kind in a sense, chasing down magic to snuff it out because they’re so scared to be found.

It was clear the local no maj knew and utterly believed in magic and those with it. They were afraid but respectful in a sense, not out to harm. That could change in a heartbeat and Percival knew that, but he wasn’t so scared of the idea that he was willing to kill creatures left and right.

The rest of the group hadn’t questioned the orders and had all found and killed magical creatures. More than once they had mocked Percival for being soft about it. Still, he believed in his thoughts and wanted no part in their hunting sport. All four competing to see who could find and kill the most to pass time.

It was odd though, the sheer variety of creatures they were finding. Beasts said only to be found on the other side of the world were here. Something was clearly off with this jungle.

Percival just knew everything was going to go to hell at some point.

Still, it didn’t feel right to just slaughter the poor things.

“Find something?” Smithers asked and Percival stood back up, shaking his head in negative.

“I thought maybe but it’s nothing,” he lied smoothly tucked the bit of shell into his pocket without being seen.

They went to begin packing camp to move and if Percival thought he saw something small and iridescent slithering in the trees he made no mention of it. If it attacked them they would kill it, if it left them be, he would do the same for it.

The attack came, but it wasn’t from any sort of creature.

Midday when the sun was it’s hottest and they were all casting cooling spells and avoiding the sunlight, one of the aurors slumped over. The rest went into immediate guard and Percival put his back to a tree rather than trusting them to defend it.

The second of the four dropped and Percival saw the small arrow in his calf.

He cast protection charms and shield spells up and the other two followed the motion.

Percival saw the third arrow pierce the shields of another auror like it was nothing, breaking through the magic as if it was little more than thin paper. 

Realizing they weren’t going to win this, he took off into a sprint, dashing through the thick jungle, avoiding vines hanging and tree roots growing up and out of the dirt.

Panting, he tried to find somewhere to hide, looking for some sort of cave or safety. But as he scanned the area it became obvious they were in the perfect area to be attacked. Nowhere to hide really, swamp on one side and thick jungle on the other. He apperated as far as he could see but it was dangerous to do without knowing his landing point.

Percival cursed out softly as he held his wand close and waited for the next attack to come, listening for footsteps or something to alert him. Back pressed into a large tree, he tipped his head to the side, perfectly still and waiting. Hoping perhaps he had shaken them off but knowing he hadn't.

The bite to his neck came lightning quick and he bucked away from the tree. The snake slithered off, a faint fire on it’s back to signify it was magical.

Percival clamped a hand on his neck and began casting poison protection charms but his tongue slurred on the words. Everything going blurry as he staggered and fought fiercely to hold on.

If there was a god, let him head him, let him see Percival was out to make the world better.

He smelt something odd in his panic, his lungs filling with the coppery scent of blood mixed with something earthy and base.

Percival’s legs gave out and he fell to the ground, gasping out as his throat began to swell and close.

He saw feet approaching him, dirty feet with callouses from never wearing shoes, fine beads wrapped around ankles and rusty red markings smeared on the pale skin.

Percival tried to focus on them as he lost consciousness.

 

He woke slowly, his muddled mind struggling to swim up and grow alert. He jerked awake and found himself tied to a post, hands and feet firmly bound. He tried to call magic and found it absent, blocked off by something in a way he had never felt before. It left him dazed, his mind floating a bit.

There was a village around him, people of every race surrounding him. Some were dressed like aboriginals and others in modern clothing, many a mix of the two. They were all focused on the event in front of them. A large man holding a gleaming knife, long and large, more like an axe than anything. It shone in the evening sunlight and Percival’s mind woke up fully as he realized it was blood-soaked. The noise flooded him, the screams of one of the aurors he came with, Gibbon, being dragged to a block before the man with the knife.

It was a bloody altar, small and the perfect height for them to bend the man over and tie him down so his neck was exposed. Kneeling on the raised podium and screaming for help frantically.

“Stop!” Percival roared out, his magic trying to rise and failing. The post he was tied to and his bindings humming with power as they restrained him. He fought viciously against it but was helpless to do anything as the man raised the knife axe and calmly beheaded the man.

Feeling sick, Percival slumped against the post and stared at the headless body as it poured blood. It ran down into grooves in the stone and dripped down in four fine lines, dried blood still there. The block was obviously there for this purpose, to behead people.

Another man, dressed in ceremonial clothing, bits of feathers and rough leather with markings painted on it lifted the severed head high and the crowd cheered.

“They're celebrating the death of the murders,” A soft voice offered and Percival twisted his head to find a young man standing beside him. Everyone else seemed to ignore his presence except this one man. Hands in his trouser pockets, he wore modern clothing, as he peered up at the block. He had copper red hair that shone in the sunlight and his skin was dotted with freckles. He was handsome but the horror trumped such observations.

“They didn’t murder anyone,” he snarled and the man looked over at him, his gaze curious rather than accusing.

“They did though,” he pointed passed the platform the block was on to a small stone temple a little way behind it. Women were wailing, grieving as they laid flowers and men had their heads bowed respectively. There was an altar covered in woven plants and bright flowers, beasts laid out on it. People were burning plants and washing the carcasses with the smoke, mourning the creatures.

Percival swallowed back anything callous and angry. Staring at the people who were genuinely upset with the dead creatures, as if they had been people.

“They didn’t know,” he finally said, feeling sick with the knowledge four men were dead for following simple orders. Even if they had intended to kill him at some point, they had still been good aurors and hadn’t deserved such a brutal punishment.

“They did. Everyone is born with the knowledge to respect all life, it’s their own choice to disregard it and take pleasure in death.” It was odd, that the man sounded British of all things. He looked it too, tall and willowy with red hair and pale skin. But there was a stark variety of the people around them, clearly they had come from all over the world.

A cult of some sort. 

“Plenty of creature’s kill,” Percival refuted, watching them take the body off the block and place the head in a basket with three other baskets lined up. He could see the tops of the other three auror’s heads.

“To eat, to protect, or to live. They killed for pleasure, for fun.” The man frowned fiercely at the baskets, clearly condemning them for what they had done.

“Am I next?”

“You didn’t take life, when given a chance, you chose to guard it even. You’ve caught the attention of Scamander.”

“Scamander,” Percival repeated, testing the name.

“The god who resides here, who looks after this village.”

“God, you think a god lives here?” He couldn’t stop the incredulous tone and the man just smiled mildly as if Percival was some child refusing common knowledge.

“What does this… god want with me?” Percival asked, trying to keep calm and level headed. The chance that he was going to live was slim but it might still be there. He would chase it until his very last breath.

“The village is going to sacrifice you to him tonight,” came the reply that had Percival’s gut sinking.

“Sacrifice…so like that?” He looked back to the headless body down in the dirt. People where obscuring his view but something, a creature of some sort, was eating it as people cheered.

“Nothing like that actually, if you can impress him, win his favor, you’ll live. If not…” the man shrugged. Not saying it but indicating without word that Percival would be killed.

“This… this is the cause of the disappearances around here, why the no maj people are so scared and certain of magic. This… god?” Even if he was to die in the end, Percival wanted to do his job, to know what he was sent there to learn.

The man nodded his head.

“The magical creatures here are special; all creatures are special but these ones more so. They’re the descendants of the first children of the god, his beloved offspring. They are from the first line of every species of magical creatures. He can’t help his anger when someone hurts them. The people in the area know that, but some still hunt them. So they’re punished.”

Percival tipped his head up, the back bumping the post he was bound too. He watched the people begin to disperse and caught sight of two massive creatures. Similar to jaguars but with extra limbs like a wampum, and long feathered manes to show they were magical. They were licking their bloody chops and Percival’s stomach twisted, knowing they had eaten the aurors. 

The blood running down the grooves in the stone platform was collecting into four bowls. Percival watched it drip down and wondered if there really was any way to get out of this.

 

The ropes bound his magic and took his balance from him. He could barely walk right, the world teetering as he moved. If he stood still he felt fine, but the moment he tried to walk his feet went clumsy and tripped easily.

People had to support him on either side to move him, firm hands holding his biceps as they led him to a river near the village. His hands were the only thing still tied up but the rope continued to work its spells on him, leaving him weak and incapacitated.

He was stripped down and left naked, his body washed thoroughly by older women who took to the task like cleaning an object more than a person.

Percival would have fought but the words of the man lingered in his head. If he could impress this god, he would live. If he could live the night, he could find a way to escape. Perhaps he could even take out this supposed god. Some powerful wizard using these people and religion to gain power. Percival might be able to end him and this whole horrid mess. To stop this killing and save these people who were being manipulated to live like this.

So he swallowed his pride and suffered the humiliation of it as he let them clean him like a dirty shirt. He didn’t fight as they paraded him back into the village nude. People looked at him, peering with curiosity but not mocking or leering, there was an anticipation about them. Something about it putting Percival on guard even more.

He noticed the creatures walking among the people, no one seemed to care or pay them attention and the beasts were likewise. As if it was all perfectly normal for massive predators to sun themselves as children played nearby. Alongside small stone and wood houses were shelters and dens made for creatures. It was bizarre to see them coexisting so smoothly, established together in a way that should be impossible. There were more creatures than he could name but Percival knew they were from all over the world and not merely local. Something was going on, had this sham of a god gathered all these beasts and brought them? Maybe he demanded people bring one when they came into the cult, there was a wide mix of people as well. 

The post they had tied him to before was in the middle of the village square and he had been facing the execution block and temple they mourned in. Behind him had been a massive temple with hundreds of stairs reaching up towards the sky. At the very top was an altar and Percival had a feeling he would be on it soon enough.

They took him into a stone house, the roof covered in leafy vines and blooming flowers that all hung low and left the air fresh and fragrant. Young men and women rubbed powders on his skin and drew markings with crushed plants.

Percival noted his hulking guards stood outside the room as if they were not allowed in. He thought to try and escape but the moment he would stand he would be falling over again. His hands remained bound behind him with the rope taking his magic and balance from him still.

Percival had to wait until he met this god, until he faced him down before he could make his move he figured.

They took hours of careful work, drawing fine lines all over his skin, drawing sweeping symbols. Depicting plants and creatures on his skin. Percival could see they were telling his story on his chest. A small figure seeing an egg with a snake hiding behind the tree and his choice to lead the others away. The fight and his escape, the snake biting him and then some great figure coming to his crumpled form. Percival frowned at the picture on his stomach as the girl drew it. A great red figure that was obviously of importance standing over him in the image.

Percival did recall seeing those feet, someone had approached him as he lost consciousness. Had he already met this leader or was it merely their best hunter or something of that sort. 

“Who was it?” He asked and the girl glanced up at him. She was dark skinned with black hair but looked from over the seas, more Asian than aboriginal of this continent. It was hard to place many of them and it was clear they had interbred freely in this village. Something that the modern world was still arguing about.

“You were chosen by Scamander,” she replied to him, her voice holding that same British accent surprisingly.

“He said so?”

“He marked you,” she explained, reaching up to touch Percival’s brow with a reverent finger.

Percival stared at her and she peered back, after a moment her eyes seemed to soften and she finished her work on his skin and then stepped away. Opening a trunk, she brought out a hand mirror, something modern and well cared for. Percival had seen modern objects throughout the village as well, the old and new blending together, everything about this village seeming intermingled.

He looked into the mirror and found a red mark on his forehead, like fingers had gently run along his brow and left a red mud behind. But it looked a bit like a birthmark, as if Percival had worn it all his life.

“This is your god’s mark?”

The girl nodded.

“You are different,” a young boy carefully painting vines up Percival’s bound forearm said, eyes focused on his task. “There is much hope you might appease him.”

“Has anyone done so before?”

Two girls looked at each other and it was telling.

“Anyone?”

The one who spoke to him shook her head in negative.

“But you are different, you passed the test. Many powerful wizards like you came before and were offered but few ever came without murdering. He has never marked so widely, usually only a single finger rather than all four.”

Percival stared at the mirror, four long lines on his brow, this god’s touch.

“He wants powerful wizards?”

A nod was his reply as the girl began to string gorgeous flowers into a chain.

“Do you know why?”

Another demure nod.

“He wishes to have a child.”

 

Percival was mostly confused as he was led up the endless stairs, trying to figure out why a man would want powerful wizards to have children. No one had elaborated on it and now drums and instruments began to beat out as the village gathered to watch him be taken up the steps.

Three or four stories high, he could still see the people’s faces down below. There was a group at the top, in two lines on either side of the altar, men and women. Everyone was calm and stoic, painted up as he was. But there were scars as well Percival noted. Long fine scars all over their bodies the markings and depictions made permanent. In the centre of their chests were magical creatures cut into their skin. Thunderbirds, occamy, demiguise, bowtruckles, nifflers, swooping evils, nundus, runespoors, and others he didn’t know, carved with care and precision to depict them.

There were live creatures on the platform as well, watching the proceedings keenly, all eyes locked on Percival.

He could feel dread building in his chest but he refused to let it consume him. He would not beg these people to stop.

On the opposite side of the only stairs up was a dais reaching out to the sky and then plummeting to the ground below.

Percival was taken to the altar in the centre of it all, torches burning as the sun had long faded from the sky and night descended.

The alter was long and narrow, made for a man to lay across it seemed and sure enough, Percival was laid out on his back. His ropes were undone but not removed, his magic still leeched away.

Vines reached for him, startling him as they curled around his arms and legs tightly. A thick one curled around his neck and pulled him down, laying Percival flat on his back, staring at the sky. One of them slithered over his mouth, gagging him as he bit down hard but without any result.

Fear pulsed in his chest but he refused to break, he would face this with courage.

If there was a chance he could live, he would do all he could to ensure that.

Even in the night, the heat of the jungle was sweltering, sweat pooling on his skin as he laid there and waited for this so-called god.

The people around him knelt down all around him, no longer in his view as they bowed.

The steady thump of a drum echoed in the air, mimicking a heartbeat.

Thunder cracked in the sky and Percival could admit it was a spectacular show, the clouds forming in the sky and swirling around, the full moon lighting them up. Thunder cracked again and lightning descended, striking down were Percival couldn’t see as the winds built up and the torches burned brighter.

The creatures around them started to raise a ruckus, growling and screaming out as the people began to chant fervently. They built momentum, rising higher and higher until the wind was screaming with them, one loud roaring sound as the lightning kept striking faster and faster.

A blinding light lit the raised dais and then everything went silent. Percival could see the man arriving, feet touching down. The dais was raised as high as the altar giving Percival a clear view.

It was the man from the village who had talked to him.

Percival cursed against his gag.

The copper-haired man stood there serenely, peering down at Percival with a calm curiosity. He was covered in the same scars and markings as the people but his seemed alive, slithering over his skin. Various creatures depicted in red on his body prowling around, curling up his arm and down his waist. He wore a hand-woven wrap around his hips and little else. Fine hand carved beads on his wrists and ankles, long necklaces and bits of plants in his hair.

He looked the part.

His eyes an eerie gold shade, shifting green at times, a thick line of red paint across his eyes that made them stand out even more. He was gorgeous and almost unnaturally so, such fine features that were both feminine and masculine.

Percival watched him step down, hips swinging in a sexual manner. It reminded Percival of the intention, the desire for a child. He was naked and tied down on his back and this god wore only a skirt, it was beginning to become obvious what was going to happen.

The man stopped at the front of the altar he was on, by Percival’s feet and lifted a bowl up he hadn't noticed earlier. It was the same from the execution block. One that had been used to collect the murdered auror’s blood.

Percival watched the man lift it to his mouth and then drink from it, swallowing it down. 

Anger overcame him, disgust and rage for what had been done in this man’s name. Those four men killed to please him and here he was, drinking their blood. Percival fought his bindings, struggling as hard as he could as the man ignored him and went through all four bowls and drank the blood down.

When he finished he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, smearing the blood over his chin and cheek uncaringly.

His gold gaze fell on Percival again, looking him over from head to toe. Percival glared at him with spite and malicious fury. His skin tore as he fought the vines holding him, his muscles hurting as he thrashed as hard as he could, until every movement burned with pain.

He bit down on the vine in his mouth and tried to tear it away so he could scream at this demented killer.

The man stepped up onto the altar, standing over Percival and peering down at him, smiling as if Percival fighting was endearing.

Walking forward, he stopped and knelt down, straddling Percival's hips.

He would die first.

He would die before he let his bastard have what he wanted. Percival had wanted nothing more to live but now he was willing to die just to vex this twisted man.

“Would it have upset you less if my children drank it?” Scamander asked, hands reaching out to rest on Percival’s chest and run down his body, fingers splayed out as he explored.

“Blood for blood, it was very common among humans once. It remains fitting to me, I gave life to my children, I would have life taken for their murders.”

It was different, they had been beasts, just simple creatures. Their lives were not the same as humans were, Percival thought furiously.

The man over him paused, lips pulling in a frown.

He reached out and placed a hand on Percival’s brow, fingers feeling as hot as fire and he jerked in pain at the contact.

 

The world was lonely.

His brothers and sisters were scattered over the world, their natures not loving. Like so many solitary animals, there were not meant to exist together, they could not form close bonds. There was an instinctual suspicion, mistrustful of the other immortals.

But the want for a family was there. That base need to procreate, to give life and raise it. Oh, how he envied the mortals for it, to have their little ones and love them. Raise them up and watch them go off into the world. To have others like them, to shape them and to adore them. To love freely and without reservation. To find mates and spend their lives with them. 

Humans and animals were endearing and sweet but they faded so fast. They lived for such a short time, barely enough to truly bond and then they were gone from the world.

He longed for more, it dug into his chest, like a great gaping wound he could not fill.

Immortals could not breed with one another. The sheer power between them could not be contained into a single form. It scattered to the world instead, creating the power of the elements, making the seas wild and the mountains rise to the sky. He did try, tried mating with his brother to make a life but instead they made a new continent, raised it from the sea and mortals quickly populated it. He would always hold it dear but it wasn’t the same at all.

His brother remained to watch over it and he wandered the world still, looking for a way to give life, to fulfil the desperate urge within him.

It was a sister who first came to be with a child. Her womb filling and a tiny little baby born from her.

He had never been so envious in his entire existence.

They all were, all of them wanting that precious life for themselves. But she hid the child away and kept how she had made her daughter a secret. She carried more and more, made a whole family of offspring.

Some of them were stolen, he tried to take one for himself like the rest but never succeeded. Those that had taken one would raise the child up and then mated with them, making their own children.

The demi were created, not immortal but not mortal either. They could live for centuries but could be slain.

They walked the earth and mixed with the mortals. The power of immortals carried in their blood, granting them power.

Magic, they called it.

No one knew how the first sister made the first child but they did know some of the demi could breed with them.

But not all.

Not all could give life, it was a rare gift that could not be sensed by any power the immortals had. But lying with a demi gave them power, made them stronger. For a time, no one seemed to worry on it. But them a demi laid with many immortals and gained so much strength he nearly destroyed all. Burned the entire world in his lust for power. The balance of life tilting precariously.

They gathered and struck him down together, the immortals. Then they agreed, that it could not happen again.

So he had tired on his own, had taken handfuls of earth and bits of lava, stones from the very bottom of the sea, he sought out the most powerful things of magic and wove them together. He breathed life into them with all his hopes and wishes.

He made his children.

The creatures of magic, their forms made by his thoughts and bits of animals borrowed but also the elements themselves.

The occamy, nundu, bowtruckle. Both large and small he made, he made them with infinite care, spending decades on crafting them perfectly. He made thousands of them in his joy. 

He loved them.

They loved him.

But they faded. They lived much longer than other mortals but in the end they would grow old and return to the earth. He had cried for a century when his firstborn had passed, the sea rising dangerously high in his mourning.

His sister had come to him then.

“You must find one with power, a demi that is bright with magic and whose soul sings out to you. They must match you, and only then can you create life between you.”

“Match?” He looked up at her, so covetous of the child on her hip and the swell of her womb. His own children decaying at his feet.

“You will know when you find the right one.”

“I must not, it’s dangerous,” he despaired, he wanted so very badly but he would not endanger the world for his own needs.

“We have spoken together on you, spending many years in deliberation. We have decided,” he sister explained as a hope blossomed in his chest.

“You may try. But you must not let them live if they do not match. You must return them to the earth, immediately.”

He nodded.

With a meek hope, he began to try. Seeking out the strongest of the demi and trying to make life with them. When they failed to do so he would take their life has promised. As the centuries wore on, he began to feel bad for the mortals. He would grow close to them and build up such hope, only to have to end them when they failed. He sought his mate and despaired when they were not his match.

He stopped knowing them. Stopped bonding before he found his match. It made it easier. To end them when they failed to be what he needed.

As he walked among the people seeking those to try with, he learned more of them. Many where endeared to his children, worshipping them and it made his heart happy to see. He favoured those humans and looked over their villages, protecting them and guiding them.

One of them, a large village, began to bring him demi males. The most powerful they could find. Some offering willingly and some forced, all of them teeming with power.

It was a sweet gesture.

So Newt would try when they offered, would mate with them and when they failed, he would return them to the earth.

He visited this village more and helped shape their beliefs and laws. He helped them see his children for what they were rather than mere animals. Intelligent beings with hopes and dreams just like they had. They respected his children and so his children respected them. Their young grew up together, brothers and sisters to one another.

When his children were slaughter they mourned as he did, knowing their names and knowing them. They shared that pain with him, a mother mourning his children. Angry at those who had killed them. They had taken their lives not out of necessity but merely because they could. Rage coursed through him and he would have tortured the killers far worse then the village had. Would have strung them up under the cruel sun and gutted them slowly. They deserved to die, they had killed, had slaughtered his children.

It was only right they answer for that.

 

Percival came back to himself slowly, his mind muddled with thoughts and memory that didn’t belong to him. They faded back, his mind unable to grasp them all, the depth and sheer time of them. But he understood the basics, the idea that the man atop of him was an immortal being and every magical creature in the world was his child. That he wanted an immortal child and a mate and he hoped Percival would give both to him. He would kill him if he couldn’t.

A great part of Percival scoffed at it all. The wizard was good, powerful with memory charms and legilimency, able to warp Percival’s mind how he pleased.

But some deep part of Percival doubted.

He knew the old stories like any wizard or witch, that they were the descendants of the gods themselves. This man could have just taken that and used it to build his lies but something in Percival was no longer sure.

Scamander peered down at him. His gaze intent but Percival felt as if he knew him now, as if they were old friends. He could see that much of this was a front. That the man was much more nervous then he was showing. There was a desperate hope in his chest and he wanted to see it fulfilled. Wanted a family to call his own.

For that, he was willing to do this. The straddle Percival as others watched them. He would fuck him right there in front of everyone and if needed kill him after.

But something about him seemed almost… shy. Meek and gentle.

Percival felt half mad, his mind jumping between hating this man and pitying him. Something very quiet whispering of awe.

“Are you ready?” Scamander whispered and Percival surprised himself by nodding. The vines going loose and letting him go. He didn’t bother to try and fight this time.

He couldn’t escape this. Even if the visions were fake it was clear this man was much more powerful than him.

But it was more than that. Percival felt a softness in his heart for him, for how alone he felt and how deeply it hurt him. No human didn’t know what it felt like to be alone, to long for companionship. They were a kind made to be with others. Isolation was a punishment and it could drive one mad. To live that way for so long, grasping at people and creatures who turned to dust in his hands so quickly. The very idea of it was horrid and Percival couldn’t hate this man. He wanted to, tried to pull up that rage he felt before, anger for the dead aurors. But it felt shallow now, knowing in the eyes of this man, they had been killing children, slaughtering them for fun. The idea of any man killing human children was repulsive and that was how Scamander saw it. Percival looked up at him and could only feel sympathy.

“I don’t want to die,” he confessed and those golden eyes softened a touch.

“Death is not an ending, it is a beginning, there is more to this world then you could even know.”

He sounded so certain.

If he was a god, he would know too.

But he wasn’t, Percival reminded himself. This was all a trick and he was being played. But that certainty was crumbling. He didn’t know what this man was, human or not.

Scamander leaned down and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

It was warm and chaste and he pulsed with power. Pouring into Percival, his magic seeming to burst with it, like an overfilled cup.

Calloused hands ran down his chest, touching as they pleased. The torches around them burned hot and the night heat left Percival sweating. The marks on his body were smeared with each touch, the story on his skin being erased.

Scamander kissed him again and Percival pushed up into it, tasting that same, sudden, jarring feeling of power. It made his body and mind light up, everything else feeling far away. It suddenly seemed less important, the situation and the danger.

It was far more pressing that he kissed this man.

Percival’s hands reached out and cupped his neck, pulling him down more so he could get into his mouth. Plush lips parting so Percival could taste more. There was nothing to compare it to, no other taste like it. It reminded him of laying in the sun and feeling it warm him to his bones. A deep utter contentment made into an addictive flavor.

Scamander broke the kiss, pulling away, breath a touch fast as he peered down at Percival, his golden eyes glowing. They looked beautiful now, gorgeous as they looked down at him, right into him.

Percival pulled him into another kiss, more rough and he nipped at the man’s lower lip, feeling lust stir up inside him. He tasted copper on his tongue and the fact that it was the dead auror’s blood didn’t even make him pause. He moved down and bit at his chin and jawline, burying his face in Scamander's long delicate neck and biting him.

He teeth found the spot between his neck and shoulder, the little crook and he sank them in. Digging harder until blood filled his mouth.

It was a startling sweet taste.

Percival loved sweet things, he downplayed it usually but his favorite was sugary pastries with a hint of cinnamon. The blood in his mouth reminded him of that and he lapped at it, swallowing it down.

Scamander didn’t even flinch, letting Percival do as he pleased.

He held tightly onto this supposed god and his pulsing magic giving him the strength to lift the other man easily. He sat up and shifted to his knees as Scamander wrapped his legs around his hips. Percival held both their weight as he pressed his face to the man’s bare chest and licked at his skin like an animal. He couldn’t help but bite him again, teeth catching skin and tearing it so more blood came. He sucked at it eagerly tongue working to drink it all down.

Long fingers ran through his hair and cupped his skull as Scamander sighed out, clearly enjoying the pain Percival was inflicting. He nipped and sucked dark marks into his pale skin, his hands holding too tightly onto the man, as if he might slip away with the wind. Scamander’s hands were all over Percival, running down his shoulders and arms, touching him as they pleased, exploring his skin as if to memorize it.

People were watching them and all that it enticed in him was a feeling of possessiveness. There was no shame.

Let them see.

Let them see that Percival was the one having this delicious man, the one who would fuck him and not any of them.

Never them.

Somewhere in his mind, Percival knew he was losing control, that his mind was lost and his body was leading him in a way it never had before. It felt feral, a base need to mate and breed.

He growled at the man against him and twisted them so Scamander was laid out under him on his back and Percival was between his spread thighs.

His magic yanked at the cloth wrap around those alluring hips. It burned hot, the material incinerating against their skin, both of them unharmed by it. Sweat was dripping down Percival’s skin but that was unimportant.

Fucking was.

Scamander looked lovely naked, pretty skin on display. His markings all swirling with life, dancing on his skin in the torchlight. He had a smooth chest dotted with freckles that led down to his cock, hard against his belly. It was almost demure looking, small and unassuming.

Percival paid it no attention, pushing those thighs wide so he could butt up close, slippery skin again skin as he lined them up.

Scamander was submissive, letting him move them as he wanted, eye bright with lust and excitement as Percival pressed the head of his cock to that pink asshole. He gripped Scamander's hips tightly and slammed in, uncaring for anything beyond being inside him.

Scamander cried out, loud and untamed, unashamed as he twisted on the altar but kept his thighs spread in offering.

Percival rumbled his approval, such a willing mate, such a perfect thing.

He slid back slowly and then rammed back in. Watching the other man jerk under him, forced up from the power of the motion. Scamander reached out above his head, gripping the edge of the altar and holding on to it.

Percival yanked back and rushed home again, pulling out and pounding right back in. Slowly building a rhythm that was increasing steadily as he panted for air.

His nails dug into the soft flesh of Scamander’s thighs as he gripped them, making sure he couldn’t escape Percival’s fucking.

Not that he would.

He was howling out, arching up, lost in the pleasure of the carnal act. He golden eyes glowing through his half-lidded eyes. He kept looking at Percival, watching him as he fucked the man savagely and growled down at him.

Scamander reached out a hand, cupping the side of Percival’s face and he pressed into the adoring touch even as he rammed as hard as he could into the tight heat.

With a snarl, Percival spilled inside him, stabbing as deeply as he could. Wanting every last drop inside him, wanting to breed this wild man.

Panting harshly for air he slumped down, feeling the pleasure take over his body for those long seconds, everything feeling perfect and throbbing with life.

When it eased back, Percival leaned down and shoved his face to Scamander’s neck. He bit him again, teeth sinking in hard as he yanked his cock back and began fucking again. His cock remained hard and Percival felt that consuming need to take still controlling him.

He tore skin and drank blood as he moved, hips thrusting roughly, wanting to take everything he could.

Magic was crackling in the air around them, the torches burning out of control as the wind whipped around them. Thunder rumbling and lightning flashing.

Percival could hear the sloppy sound of his cock moving in the seeded hole. That dirty sound giving him a thrill as he lapped at the man’s neck. It was a mess of red and purple, bruises and bites marking him thoroughly.

His hands were around Percival’s shoulders holding on to him, his nails gouging into his shoulder blades and drawing long lines down. Percival snarled in delight, knowing he would wear the scars with pride.

His mate.

His.

Percival moved so he could press their foreheads together, staring down at the man as he rocked into him, watching his body lurch each time he hammered into him.

He had never known he could love someone so deeply so fast, such a dark possessive thing forming in his chest. He would never give him up, he would keep him forever, breed him up and watch him swell with their children.

“Yes,” Scamander cried out, hearing the thoughts, hearing that wicked desire. He looked as wild as Percival felt, eyes blazing as he pushed into Percival’s motions, taking everything he would give him.

He sat up, staring down at Scamander as he fucked him, slamming in as roughly as his body could. Magic hummed under Percival’s skin, pulsing and threatening to rip him apart. But he used it to ram into the man under him, to bury himself as deep as was possible.

He growled out and Scamander arched on the stone, howling out, hands breaking the stone under them as his own cock twitched and spilt. White lines up his pale chest as he sobbed out.

Percival came with him, holding him tightly to his body, pressed in as he spilled his seed a second time. He fought for air, gasping lungful’s as his chest heaved. His body trembled, on the edge of what it could withstand. Everything suddenly threatening to topple down.

Percival blinked down at the man under him, feeling the lust begin to give way and common sense trying to take control once more.

In a single motion, Scamander flipped them. Percival’s cock was still inside him as he twisted them around. Percival grunted has his back hit the stone, he was the one laid out now, Scamander looming over him.

The feral man reached out a hand without looking and someone brought a knife for him. Scamander’s long pretty fingers curling around the hilt.

There was a sadness about him, his eyes looking so hesitant as he held the knife over Percival’s chest, over his very heart. He was strong enough to get it, to smash through his ribs and rip it out.

But Percival wasn’t afraid.

That lack of fear confused Scamander, his eyes curious as he stared down at him.

Percival looked up at him, calm and content in the knowledge rumbling through him. Even as his mind cleared up that feral thing remained inside Percival, slinking back to a den created inside him but with no intention of ever leaving. He was changed in a way that would never fade.

Power hummed under his skin, more magic than he knew what to do with.

But that magic told him. The predator in him was pleased with itself, smug and satisfied.

“Oh,” Scamander breathed out, eyes going so wide as the knife fell to the side. He covered his mouth, muffling sobs as tears of blood ran down his face.

It looked lovely.

He bent over Percival pressing his face against Percival’s neck as he cried in joy.

Centuries of waiting, centuries of trying, centuries of hoping.

A match finally made.

A mate found.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Newt is an actual god or someone just very powerful and deluded?


	5. Musical Inspired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, here we are, he's come to greet you properly,” Mrs. Edwards announced far too soon. She turned to face someone behind them and Newt took a steadying breath before turning as well.
> 
> A very handsome man was approaching them, his eyes intent on Newt. He was indeed, very intimating looking. His clothing fit him well and showing off his lithe form. His face was dignified and strict looking. A born alpha people would say, a true leader. 
> 
> “Mr. Graves,” Mrs. Edwards greeted and Newt dropped his gaze to the man’s shoes, unable to lift them again. He felt unexpectedly despicable for this lie to this man. Newt wanted Queenie to be happy but this was a terrible sort of thing to do to someone. If Newt was discovered, he would be mocked and was fine with it. But this man would be ridiculed as well he realized suddenly. 
> 
> This lie felt suddenly far more heavy on his shoulders. 
> 
> “This is lady Queenie Goldstein, the daughter of Lord Goldstein.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit inspired by Nancy Mulligan by Ed Sheeran and then also Regency fic because my darling friend requested it! 
> 
>  
> 
> **Kinks for this fic: Loss of Virginity, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Newt Lies, Heat Sex, Begging, Crying during Sex, Fighting Over Newt, Kissing and Biting, Possessive Behavior, Crossdressing.**

Newt honestly doesn’t think it will go as badly as it does.

But to say that it went bad wasn’t quiet correct.

More…unexpected he would say.

 

Queenie and Tina grew up in the manor beside Newt’s family home. They spent their childhood by the little creek, chasing frogs and sharing secrets. Newton never managed to have many friends, not like Theseus did. He couldn’t seem to bring people to him and make them like him in that same way. Never fit in. But Queenie and Tina never minded his oddness, never scoffed or scorned him.

They were his truest friends and Newt’s childhood would have been so much bleaker without them.

The trouble began when Queenie came of age.

It was no real secret that she was sweet on the kitchen worker Jacob and he adored her in return.

But he had no name or status, he was no one in the eyes of high society and their love was a doomed one.

Queenie was a first born daughter and her husband would inherit her father’s wealth one day. She would marry someone befitting that wealth, someone of high status.

Her power in Legilimency only made her more sought after. Any witch with such gifts was desired, her children more likely to be born powerful.

And so, Queenie was arranged to marry Percival Graves, a powerful and wealthy American who had come to Britain to find a bride.

The day her father announced it, Queenie cried for hours, sobbing under the trees along the creek in Tina’s arms. Newt standing there watching and feeling so helpless.

“You can only take this and make due,” Tina explained softly. There was sympathy in her face but also acceptance. They had all known Queenie would never marry Jacob. “Mr. Graves has a good reputation, a law enforcer and a gentleman.”

“I don’t want him,” Queenie sobbed out, her delicate shoulders shaking in despair.

“We don’t get to choose,” Tina replied quietly. “We can only take what is given to us. Father has done his best to find someone who will be understanding and a good match eventually. He’s not doing this to be cruel.”

“I want to be with Jacob, not some American.”

Tina tutted. “Father is American himself, be kind.”

“You don’t understand at all; you think I’m being a child! That I should have known better!” Queenie gathered her skirts and rose up, storming away from them.

“She really should have known better,” Tina confessed and Newt didn’t disagree. But he felt for his dear friend. Jacob was a good man, a kind and bright soul. Newt wished their lives were different so they could be together.

 

Queenie came to him a week after, visiting his family home and pulling Newt into a walk in the gardens. Magical creatures greeted them warmly, bowtruckles scrambling onto Newt’s shoulder happily.

“I know you understand more than anyone, that I want more than marriage to some stranger,” Queenie confessed. Newt couldn’t deny it; she could read his mind after all.

“It’s horrid and I don’t want too.”

Newt looked at her, curious what she would do. Queenie was the light and bubbly one, seeming delicate and bashful at times. But Newt grew up with her and he knew there was a strength in her that would never bend or break.

Queenie smiled gratefully for the thought, reaching out to tuck her arm into his and press in close.

“I want to ask you for something, a favor that would mean the world to me.”

 

And so, two months later, Newt stepped up into a carriage dressed as a woman. Tina and her parents had both become stomach sick and were unable to go. So Queenie would meet a paid chaperone once she arrived in the town and go to meet her future husband. It was half a day’s drive, three towns over where no one knew her. The chaperone hastily arranged had also never met her.

Queenie spelled the skies to pour down rain and so Newt wore a coat and wide bonnet to hide from the rain and the driver didn’t notice it wasn’t Queenie getting in. He was awkward in so much fine silk and lace, the dress embroidered and decorated with fine ribbons, everything very elaborate to show status. Queenie had spent hours carefully adjusting it to fit Newt’s body. The corset and women’s underthings rather snug but she reassured them they should be. They had poured hair potions on his head to grow his hair out last night and she had spent hours curling his hair and apply makeup, talking him through interactions and what to expect.

“Keep your head down, if you get flustered it’s fine, expected even, of a woman. Just use your fan to hide and say you need to sit for a bit. No proper man will deny you that. If you have to dance just follow the man's lead, if you make mistakes just say you feel light headed. Honestly, you can blame anything on being a frail woman.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met such a thing, a frail woman.”

Queenie smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek lovingly.

“Thank you Newt, you’ve given me a gift beyond anything else. I can’t thank you enough.”

Newt nodded, looking down at his lap, his nails trimmed and cleaned to look like a woman’s.

“I want you to be happy,” he admitted and Queenie sighed out, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I will be. Because of you.”

 

Newt just had to play the role for the evening, once it was late enough he could retire to his room and then just wait out the night.

Queenie would have left with Jacob already. The two running away to marry and live together. Queenie would give up all her wealth and a life of ease for the man. Willing to have to find work and spend her life in labor. Newt thought perhaps that was a sign of the depth of her love, of the purity of it.

He hoped he could do this for her, help them have hours to get far away and to find a church to marry in.

Swallowing his nerves, he went over everything Queenie had suggested, be meek and demure, be soft and gentle. Honestly, Newt thought he might have done better in life he was born a woman. He was terrible at being an assertive forward man but it would be easy to be shy and soft. Because he was by nature, unable to deny that he was meek and submissive.

Once everything unraveled, Newt would face punishment but it would be nothing he feared. His parents loved him dearly and his brother would understand why he had done it. They often told him he was too soft-hearted, too easily led astray. They would blame Queenie more than him.

Even if it did cause a true strife, Newt would not regret this. He was helping his dear friend and that was worth any future trouble he faced.

 

Mrs. Edwards was a stern looking woman who immediately defied his expectations but offering Newt a gentle hug. It wasn’t common to offer such affection to a stranger but she did so without hesitation.

“I know this is hard, but I’m here to help you tonight. We can take this and make the best of it can’t we?” 

He wondered how often women were told so, to ‘make the best of it’. It seemed like a common phrase.

Newt nodded weakly, feeling bad for the lie but reminding himself of his friend’s happiness.

Mrs. Edwards tucked his hand into her elbow and walked Newt down the street of the small but clearly wealthy town.

“Mr. Graves arrived only yesterday but I’ve managed to scrounge up all I could on him on such short notice.”

“He might seem like an intimidating man when you first meet him, but he’s regarded as a gentleman and proper alpha.”

Newt nodded again, trying his best not to talk if he could, his voice might give him away. He was also far too tall for a woman but Mrs. Edwards hadn’t commented on it thankfully.

“We’ll settle in at my home and I’ll show you your room to freshen up. Then we’ll head to the Lord Ashford’s home where you will meet your intended. I’ll be beside you the entire time and make sure everything goes well.”

Newt swallowed and stumbled in his shoes, they felt so small and low cut, as if they might fall off his feet at any moment. Mrs. Edwards steadied him and frowned a touch.

“I’m….n-nervous,” his finally confessed, trying to keep his voice soft and low.

The other woman’s face lit with sympathy and she patted Newt’s hand soothingly.

“It’s going to be all right dear. This is just a first meeting. You’ll have plenty of more meetings before anything is formally announced, you’ll know him in no time at all.”

Newt nodded faintly.

 

They arrived early, as a woman should.

Mrs. Edwards kept her hand on Newt’s arm and led him around the people. It was horrid on his nerves, so many strangers in such small rooms it felt like.

“Poor dear, do crowds bother you?”

Newt nodded and the woman made a sympathetic sound. She must think him so weak and soppy but she hadn’t been unkind to him once.

“Let’s go to the balcony, no one likes the balcony when it’s windy,” she suggested and led Newt out of the house and into the fresh air. He sucked in a deep breath and felt his shoulders slump in a small relief.

 

“Ah, here we are, he's come to greet you properly,” Mrs. Edwards announced far too soon. She turned to face someone behind them and Newt took a steadying breath before turning as well.

A very handsome man was approaching them, his eyes intent on Newt. He was indeed, very intimating looking. His clothing fit him well and showing off his lithe form. His face was dignified and strict looking. A born alpha people would say, a true leader. 

“Mr. Graves,” Mrs. Edwards greeted and Newt dropped his gaze to the man’s shoes, unable to lift them again. He felt unexpectedly despicable for this lie to this man. Newt wanted Queenie to be happy but this was a terrible sort of thing to do to someone. If Newt was discovered, he would be mocked and was fine with it. But this man would be ridiculed as well he realized suddenly.

This lie felt suddenly far more heavy on his shoulders.

“This is lady Queenie Goldstein, the daughter of Lord Goldstein.”

Newt stood frozen a moment before Mrs. Edwards hand touched his back and he fumbled into a bow that he switched into a women's curtsy of greeting in the last second.

It had to look inelegant.

“Lady Queenie, this is Lord Percival Graves of New York.”

The man offered a bow and Newt’s fingers tangled in his silk dress nervously.

“It’s an honor to meet you finally, I must say your picture did you no justice.”

Newt nearly made a noise, eyes widening at the idea that this man was supposed to know what Queenie looked like.

“P-picture?” He breathed, trying to keep his voice soft.

“A portrait your father sent, a commissioned drawing that was made two years prior, he had mentioned you had matured a great deal since then.”

Newt nodded, glancing at the man. He didn’t seem suspicious, his gaze watching Newt with interest and not any sort of doubt that something was off. A drawing would be black and white, perhaps vague enough that it wasn’t obvious Newt wasn’t the one in the picture.

He could only hope to make the night through.

If Mr. Graves realized the truth Newt would pull him aside and confess, to spare the man any shame.  

“Why don’t we go find something to refresh us?” Mrs. Edwards announced and the man stepped back from them, motioning for them to go first.

Newt couldn’t help but look at him as they walked past, the man’s steady eyes still watching him. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Newt was certain this man would figure him out, he seemed far too clever not too. But the weight of his gaze also felt… good. Newt could feel his face heat and Mrs. Edwards smiled knowingly as she led him away.

“A good first meeting,” she whispered to Newt.

 

For the rest of the evening, the woman kept herself at Newt’s elbow all night. Gently correcting him when he did something wrong or spoke in a way a woman shouldn’t. Part of Newt wished to ignore her guidance at times, Queenie would have. No woman was truly as demure as she wished. But he was in a strange place with no real allies save for this woman so Newt followed her instructions without question.

Mr. Graves watched them like a hawk, sipping his wine and standing with other men but his gaze always finding Newt.

He tried to fade away, tucked in a quiet corner, watching the livelier people dance. He used his fan to hide, ducking behind it as he tried his best not to watch the clock too obviously. Part of him very badly wanted to feign illness and escape but he was worried he might be caught if he acted too rashly.

“You should speak with him more, dear, try to establish a friendship.”

Newt looked away from the woman trying to help, wishing badly that he had a reason not too.

But Mrs. Edwards took his elbow and led him across the room closer to Queenie’s intended. Mr. Graves left his spot to meet them, ever watching Newt.

“I would have this dance?” He requested and Mrs. Edwards glanced to Newt for an answer.

“I’m…I’m really v-very terrible,” he confessed, his voice sounding breathy. A bit of sweat running down the small of his back. Newt was used to heavy layers of clothing and had thought women’s might be lighter. Instead, he was strapped into a corset that made it hard to draw in a deep breath. When he first wore it today he had barely noticed but now it was growing more uncomfortable by the moment. His silk underthings were clinging to his sweat-slicked thighs and the layers of the dress were trapping the heat. He wasn’t used to wearing a headdress either, bits of ribbon and jewel weaved into his hair that was piled on his head artfully by Queenie. It felt heavy and pulling now. Newt was utterly uncomfortable and dearly wished to escape. The idea of attempting to dance was not a pleasant one.

“Surely, a single song,” Mrs. Edwards pressed and Newt nodded weakly, face beginning to heat up.

Mr. Graves stood before him as the song began, Mrs. Edwards to the side watching them keenly.

Newt missed the women’s cue and fumbled to catch up. When they met and Mr. Graves took his hand in his own, his skin felt hot to the touch. Newt thought maybe he wouldn’t have to fake an illness soon. He felt so warm and peaky. 

He couldn’t look at the man at all. Guilt in the back of his throat for the wrong he was doing to this poor man. Newt kept his gaze on Mr. Graves fine waistcoat. It was a trendy cut with charmed dragon embroidery that moved in unified motions. Peeking at his face, Newt thought he was rather dapper too. Very intimidating but very suave.

“Are you feeling well?” Mr. Graves asked when they stepped close to swing in a circle and Newt missed the step, nearly colliding with the man. He was a touch taller than him, feeling so out of place and utterly awkward.

“I’m warm,” Newt admitted as he looked down to their feet and tried to recall the moves for a woman. He had thought it would be easy, such a foolish thing to think.

Percival’s hand that had Newt’s own pulsed with magic and he blinked as a cool breeze seemed to come over him, easing the cloistering heat that was trying to engulfing him.

“T-Thank you,” he breathed, truly grateful for the act.

“I know things are not ideal,” Mr. Graves offered, voice low with a kindness that betrayed his stern features. “But I do hope we can try and have a good life together.”

Newt’s faced burned with remorse, knowing this man was trying to build an understanding and friendship with his future wife. He had no idea Newt wasn’t even a woman, that Queenie had by now, married Jacob and had no intention of marrying Mr. Graves.

“I feel like you would be a g-good husband,” Newt replied sincerely.

He was far too aware of the other man’s body so close to his own, brushing against him as they moved. Mr. Graves held his hand in a secure but not too tight grip and his hand on Newt’s waist felt warm in a nice way even through the many layers.

Newt had never felt such a pull before, never wanted anyone. He had thought perhaps he was not meant to marry. Now his thoughts were thrown into disarray and he was very aware that he might be a homosexual.

His parents would be delighted. The muggles were still very discriminating but the wizard folk had moved passed it. There were plenty of high-status men seeking a young husband over a wife. Newt had never given interest for so long that his parents worried he might not ever. They would be so happy to parade him before men until a match was mate. As a second born son, Newt’s marriage wasn’t as important as Theseus. But his parents wanted to see him married, with someone so he wouldn’t end up a spinster all alone.

“Are you sure you’re well?” Mr. Graves asked again when Newt missed another step and he was saved by the dance ending. With a quick curtsy, he slipped over to Mrs. Edwards side once more. She offered an encouraging smile and didn’t comment on Newt’s ghastly dancing thankfully.

When they went out for air on the balcony again. Newt blinked when something in his hair moved when the woman's attention was on the people inside.

Pickett the bowtruckle squeaked at him and Newt fumbled to hide him away before they were caught. The bowtruckle kept chattering at him, worried about him and insisting Newt was ill.

Which he couldn’t deny.

Sweat was running down his thighs, sticky and strange. His neck felt far too warm, even in the evening winds. The cooling spell Mr. Graves had cast had faded and Newt was startled with how hot his body felt.

“Perhaps we should call this an early night, you seem a bit faint,” Mrs. Edwards announced and Newt nodded his head in relief.

“I feel off,” he agreed and the woman believed him.

“We must say good evening to Mr. Graves,” she insisted and Newt agreed if only to leave finally.

“A moment, I see him and I’ll bring him over, you’ll see me the whole time.” Mrs. Edwards nodded to where Newt could see Mr. Graves speaking with other gentlemen and he nodded his head. “You stay here in the cool air; you seem about to faint I fear.”

Newt nodded weakly, not disagreeing with the assessment.

He looked out over the streets, people coming and going from the house and others in carriages going down the street. It was early in the evening still but not so much that Newt would be too odd to leave.

“Lovely evening,” A new voice rumbled, too close and Newt startled. He stepped away from the stranger, a handsome man but an undercurrent of menace about him. Newt looked away, nodding his head and trying to edge closer to the balcony rail and away from the man standing far too close.

“You look lovely as well,” he mused, his hand reaching to touch the small of Newt’s back.

Sweat trickled down Newt’s neck and the touch felt appalling. Reaching back, he pushed the man’s hand away firmly.

“If you don’t mind, you’re standing too close,” he said tightly.

The man seemed amused, chuckling low and not moving away at all.

“You smell divine darling.”

“Leave me alone,” Newt hissed back, the guise of a demure woman slipping as a stranger put him on edge. Newt couldn’t muster a proper glare or look at him directly but he let his voice carry and his words be rude.

“I think she wants you to step away,” Mr. Graves declared and Newt’s shoulders slumped in relief.

Without waiting he pushed away from the stranger and went to the other man’s side. He surprised them both by tucking his arm into Mr. Graves elbow securely. It was forward of him to do so with a man, even his intended.

“I really don’t feel well,” he whispered and Mr. Graves spared the other man a glare before nodding.

“Come along,” he instructed and Newt nodded, following him. He kept his head down and clung to the man as he led Newt through winding groups of people and hallways and stairs. The house hadn’t seemed large before but now it felt like a maze.

“Where it your chaperone?”

“She went to find you, I'm not sure where she is now,” Newt replied, sweat running down the side of his face. The cool air felt lovely on his skin and Newt walked forward, leading now. Mr. Graves followed him as Newt hurried down the street side and away from the crowd. His head was buzzing with so many voices, pecking at him like birds. He just needed a bit of quiet.

“Shall I fetch a healer?”

“Don’t leave,” Newt said with a frantic edge. The presence of the man was calming him, something frantic trying to work its way through him. “Please don’t leave me.”

His feet stumbled and his knees buckled, Mr. Graves twisted to catch Newt as he nearly fell. They ducked into the stables aside the house, no one inside as Mr. Graves leaned Newt against the barn wall.

Newt’s fingers grabbed at the fabric across his stomach, trying to get the lace ties open and the dress aside so he could undo the corset.

“I can’t breathe,” he moaned out and the man in front of him cursed out. Firm hands pushed his own away and Newt whimpered as the fine silk and lace was torn. Mr. Graves fingers found the corset and a muttering of magic severed all the laces at once. It fell loose and slipped off him as Newt sucked in a deep breath gratefully, slumping against the wall.

Mr. Grave stood before him, watching Newt intently.

“Forgive my forwardness,” he said before he leaned in suddenly. Newt had his back to the wall and was facing the man, drawing in a quick breath as Mr. Graves dipped in and sniffed his neck. The close contact should have been appalling but Newt found he liked it immensely, more than anything that could be normal.

“Something is w-wrong,” he panted, still not able to breathe correctly.

“I think…I think you might be in heat,” Mr. Graves announced and Newt blinked at him. He looked at his face, meeting his gaze for the first time and something utterly sinful washed through his body. Newt dropped his eyes immediately and shook his head in negative.

“I‘can’t be. Omegas aren’t in’my family,” he protested, voice slurring a bit.

“They don’t have to be; it can happen to anyone.”

The magical population was made up of betas, regular people. A very small number were alphas, dominant and aggressive by nature. An even smaller percent were omega, meek and submissive. 

“Omegas go into heat around sixteen, I’m almost twenty, t-too old.” Newt explained, leaning heavily on the wall as the world spun around him.

“There is no set law, late-blooming happens. You need to go somewhere safe, every alpha in the town will scent you soon, even with the winds.”

“I smell?” Newt wrinkled his nose and Mr. Graves chuckled.

“Very good, like something pure and alluring. It was on you when you arrived and it’s been getting stronger all night.”

Newt bit his lower lip, wondering where Mrs. Edwards was, she would know what to do he felt. Had the terrible man from before scared her off or something equally distasteful.

“Right lovely isn’t she?” That slithering voice said and Newt tensed, turning his head to find the stranger at the doorway watching them.

“Get out,” Mr. Graves snarled, utterly snarled the words, suddenly wound up and aggressive. Newt’s knees felt weak at the command in the tone.

“Come now, be reasonable, we can share her.”

“Leave now or I’ll make you leave,” came the growl and other man pushed away from leaning on the doorjamb. Instead of going away though he stepped into the stables.

“Shall we see who wins?”

Feeling light-headed, Newt swallowed as Mr. Graves yanked his coat off his shoulders and the stranger undid his shirt cuffs.

“Omegas can be claimed by anyone they wish when in heat,” the stranger recited. “Alphas who want them may fight for them, but do so without magic or weapon.”

Newt tried to protest, he didn’t want anyone fighting over him, but his tongue felt too heavy to work.

Mr. Graves didn’t spare time, lifting his fists and suddenly both men were moving far too fast for Newt to keep track. They struck out at one another, trying to damage the other and snarling back and forth.

Mr. Graves took more hits but he seemed able to, bracing for each impact and letting loose his own strikes. His landed a hard blow, staggering the stranger. Their fists were red with blood right away and their faces bruising from blows. They looked feral, eyes wild and intent on each other, as if to kill one another.

The stranger spat blood into the hay and smirked at Mr. Graves, looking utterly unhinged. 

“We can’t have some American stealing away our precious omegas,” he sneered and moved in again to attack the other alpha.

Newt could tell they were both alphas now, by the aggression both were displaying, snarling and growing at each other. A beta male wouldn’t want an omega with the same fierceness. For every omega there were ten alphas, an unfair number that drove alphas to be very possessive of any omega they found. Newt dimly recalled a young girl from the working class going into heat in the town and her family suddenly of high status when she married for an utter fortune. If Newt was somewhere safe, he might have had a choice like that. But here in a stable with the high winds hiding his omega scent, he was alone and at the mercy of the two fighting to have him.

He was an omega.

He was in heat.

Newt shivered as the stranger moved so fast, precise hits that Mr. Graves clearly felt as he grunted with each blow. The man pressed the advantage and Newt felt himself shudder when the stranger forced Mr. Graves back.

He rallied though and Newt’s emotions soared high again as Mr. Graves blocked the next blow and landed his own. His lip was torn and bleeding and he looked fierce as he fought the stranger back.

Finally, Mr. Graves landed a hard hit on the man’s jaw and the stranger slammed to the ground with a solid thud. Unable to get back up right away.

“Get out,” he growled to the loser, voice so rough and aggressive as his gaze swung over to Newt. Instantaneously he felt the heat of his body rise, something wicked rushing into Newt. Heat and bodies pressed together, he wanted this man close, wanted him to rub himself all over Newt’s body. Wanted something he barely understood. Newt had never felt sexual urges, never masturbated or explored. It made sense now, some omegas were said to be sexually immature until their first heat.

The stranger spat blood, reaching into his mouth to yank out a tooth and his face was dark and thunderous as he looked up. He pulled his wand and Newt made a shocked noise. Percival twisted back to face him, trying to call his own from his discarded coat.

But the spell hit him first. Lighting lancing through his body as he dropped to the ground in agony.

“Like I said, you won’t be taking that omega,” the stranger smirked down at Mr. Graves.

Newt glanced at the door, thinking to make a run. His heat seemed to fall back, the danger clearing his mind.

The man was distracted with Mr. Graves slumped form, delivering a cruel kick to his stomach when he tried to rise up.

Newt couldn't just leave him. He looked around and found a shovel leaning on the wall beside him.

“I’m going to enjoy fucking him over your prone body,” The man mocked Mr. Graves. He glared up at the stranger, not giving Newt away at all as he crept closer behind the man facing away.

"You'll do no such thing," Mr. Graves snapped, keeping the man's attention on him.

Newt didn’t hesitate at all, the world felt a bit woozy still and Newt perhaps hit far harder than he intended. But he slammed the heavy metal end of the shovel down on the stranger’s head and watched him fall hard. He panted for breath as he dropped the shovel, taking no pleasure in the aggressive act. Newt never liked committing violence. 

“W-What a repulsive man,” he announced weakly.

Pickett squeaked in agreement from his hiding place in Newt's torn dress.

“Are you ok?” Newt asked Mr. Graves and the man nodded as he got up carefully, blood dripping down his chin.

“I should have suspected a dirty fighter from his sort,” he muttered.

“Probably,” Newt agreed and it seemed to surprise the man who huffed out a strained laugh.

Mr. Graves took up his wand and tied the man up securely before moving him out into the street. A quick message spell was sent to that local authorities and Newt shivered when the door was opened and the wind snuck in.

His sweaty body went cold in an instant and Mr. Graves offered his coat, helping Newt pull it onto his shoulders.

“We should go find your chaperone.”

Newt nodded, glancing at the stranger’s slumped body and feeling that urgent desire still winding through him, beginning to wake up once more. He glanced at Mr. Graves again and felt in increase, hungry for this alpha who had fought so hard for him but was still a gentleman.

Newt reached out and gently took hold of his wrist. Mr. Graves looked to Newt in question.

Biting his lip, he pulled him and the alpha followed obediently, letting Newt take them to the back to the stables.

It was a large place with winding halls and horses in the stalls, the smell of hay and animals all around them.

Newt stopped when they reached the other side, a set of closed doors that would lead out to the opposite street of the house. There was no one around, no one to see them.

“I’m…I’m not Queenie,” he confessed quietly, head ducking in shame.

“I know,” Mr. Graves replied easily and Newt blanked in surprise, looking at his face and finding the man looking back steadily. “You look nothing like the picture.”

“I’m not a woman at all,” Newt added and the man tipped his head and nodded in agreement.

“It’s in your scent,” he explained and Newt shivered.

“I’m s-sorry, for lying.”

“It’s alright, I half expected her not to show. It was no secret Queenie didn’t wish to marry.” He stepped in as he explained it and Newt trembled for a different reason. A heady cologne clung to the coat he was wearing over his shoulders, filling his nose as the man stood so close to him, he could almost feel his heat.

“What’s your name?” Mr. Graves asked quietly, reaching out a hand and pushing a bit of Newt’s hair from his face. It was an inappropriate thing to do and Newt wanted more.

“Newt, everyone calls me Newt,” he replied, leaning in, swaying closer to the man.

“Newt,” he tested out, voice low and warm. His eyes intent on Newt and making him feel all dizzy and overheated again. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Newt trembled as the man leaned in and pressed his warm mouth to his own. He felt so inexperienced, his body betraying him, wanting to press in close. Newt couldn’t help but obey, stepping in to press their chest together as the man kissed him.

It felt good, warm and gentle.

It wasn’t enough.

Newt whined in his throat, tipping his head to press a bit firmer, mouth parting a touch. His tongue snuck out, seeking and Mr. Graves let him. He opened his own mouth and let Newt steal a taste of him.

His back hit the wall, he hadn’t realized they were moving at all. Mr. Graves pressed himself to Newt, trapping him between the wall and his body.

It felt wonderful.

Newt whimpered out when the alpha broke the kiss, suddenly leaning in to rain kisses on his neck. His breath hot on Newt’s skin as he arched his head back to give him room to work. Newt licked his lower lip and tasted copper, Mr. Graves blood from the fight smeared on his skin.

“I want,” he gasped out, hands reaching out to pull the man closer, as if he could just pull him tightly enough they would be one and the building need in Newt would abate. He could feel sweat running down his skin again, his whole body beginning to go hot once more.

“Please,” Newt begged, “I need,” he whimpered, not even knowing really.

Mr. Graves growled against his skin, reaching out and gripping Newt’s thighs. He lifted him suddenly, thighs spread wide and pulled to the man’s waist. When he stepped in Newt could feel his erection press against his body and he moaned out.

He wanted that.

His fingers ran through the man’s slicked hair and he pulled his head up so Newt could kiss him again.

This time Mr. Graves tongue invaded his mouth immediately. Flicking his tongue and licking at him, tasting him in this lewd way.

“I’m going to fuck you, sweet,” He rumbled when he pulled back, one hand fumbling to pull Newt’s ripped dress aside. “I need to fuck you.”

Newt nodded his head, thighs tightening on the man’s waist to keep himself up as his silk and lace dress ripped more. His underclothing tore as well, magic running over his skin and rushing to expose his bare body under all the fabric.

Mr. Graves hands came together to grip the front top of the dress and with a grunt, he tore it open the rest of the way. It parted and Newt’s bare skin was on display.

The man fell on it like an animal, rushing to lick at Newt’s skin and his mouth closing to suck on his right nipple.

Newt whined out, voice going embarrassingly loud as he pushed his hips against the alpha’s hungrily. He quivered and shivered, feeling his cock achingly hard but it was lower still that felt more sensitive. Mr. Graves cupped his backside, squeezing it roughly and then one hand pressed in between.

Neat was soaked he realized.

Not sweat like he had thought. Something slippery dripping from that spot.

Mr. Graves fingers brushed against Newt’s most intimate place, somewhere never explored and Newt whimpered as his body lit like a torch and he was overwhelmed. Crying out, his hands clutched at the man desperately as Newt came apart. His cock dripped white bead of seed and everything throbbed brightly, pleasure like nothing he had ever known taking him. Holding him entirely, consuming him.

Newt slumped against the wall, shivering in the aftershocks of such an immense feeling.

Mr. Graves kissed his shoulder gently as he adjusted Newt to slide a bit higher on his hips.

The man reached between them and after a moment of fumbling, Newt felt something hot and hard touch him.

It was blunt and far too big but pressing insistently.

Newt knew enough of sex to know what was happening, the man wanted into Newt, wanted to fuck him. Such a dirty word and yet in the moment it seemed fine, it seemed right almost. A rude word for this thing happening, everything far too much and Newt barely knowing what was occurring occuring.

Mr. Graves hissed out, pressing his face into Newt’s shoulder and so he wound his arms around his broad shoulders and held on as the alpha pushed his cock at Newt with more insistence.

It went suddenly, sinking in and Newt gasped out.

There was no way to describe it, he felt opened inside his body. Slick made it all wet and slippery as the man gently nudged a bit deeper. Newt’s thighs clenched, a bit of pain nipping at him.

“It’s ok, sweet, It’s ok,” Mr. Graves growled out, trying to sound kind but not quite there. His voice held a strained note, something dark and strained. Newt was surprised to like it, to enjoy something about the tone, as if the strain and heat was a delightful thing.

Mr. Graves kept easing into Newt, more and more. It felt like far too much, his body felt like it was stretched so wide.

It felt so good. So right and so perfect.

Newt had never known mating could feel like this, a pleasure that was so simple and yet so powerful.

The alpha finally seemed to be inside him fully, pressing Newt’s hips down and his backside was in his lap. Newt had a cock buried in him. His mind was dizzy and his breath uneven, everything felt so new and strange but he knew immediately that he liked this. That he liked a cock inside him.

Then Mr. Graves moved.

Newt cried out, far too loud but unable to stop it.

Something was sparking inside him when the man moved, the friction was amazing and Newt trembled so hard, so overwhelmed and lost in this new world.

He clung to the man and whimpered as Mr. Graves shushed him gently and kept moving, back and forth. Over and over, Newt’s thighs clenched and relaxed, his whole body not knowing how to react.

All Newt knew was that he wanted it. He adored it. He pressed sloppy kisses to the man’s neck, above his proper collar. Newt pulled at it, wanting more skin. The top button popped with magic and he delighted in licking a long line over the salty skin. The alpha tasted so good, it made sense why he was lapping at Newt’s skin as well, licking and nipping at his shoulder.

Newt tried a nip as well, sinking in his teeth and the reaction was instant, the man bucking into him with a sudden hard motion. Newt’s body responded as well, liking that rough motion very much. So Newt bit again, a bit harder and Mr. Graves gave him a groan as his hips pumped a bit faster.

Newt let go of the skin under his teeth, sighing out as he clung to the man and felt him fuck into Newt.

Such a lovely thing.

“More please, just like that,” he gasped out when Mr. Graves gave him a few good and vigorous lunges. The wall banging as Newt's body was rammed into it. He could hear the wet sound of their mating, an indecent slick sound because Newt was so wet there.

“More, please more,” he encouraged, needing it so utterly.

He sobbed as the man obeyed him so exquisitely, slamming into him, thrusting so forcefully. It felt so unclothe and brutish but Newt’s body felt so good because of it.

He pressed his brow to the man’s shoulder and cried softly, the wall banging over and over as Newt’s weight hit it. He was shoved up with every lunge, his whole body jolted as pleasure sang through him.

Something was rising in him, something terrible and perfect. Sin and heat overtaking everything.

“Please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face as his thighs squeezed the man’s body between them, trying to hold on and take more pleasure.

He felt greedy and wild for it, making such loud uncivil sounds as the man growled and rammed into him. He was shoving so hard and Newt could feel himself coming apart. He hung onto to the man tightly as everything burned too bright again.

Mr. Graves was just as lost this time, cursing lowly as he drove his cock into Newt with such force and speed. Trying to go as deep as possible it felt like and Newt moaned as something in him gave way.

Trembling, he came again, his body clenching, his muscles strained as pleasure overtook him.

It felt frozen in time for a few seconds, like a spell holding him. He couldn't breathe and his whole body tensed as everything felt so utterly wonderful.

When it finally fluttered down, Newt slumped on the man, panting for breath desperately as his body jerked in little aftershocks, thighs aching with the burden of holding so tightly.

Mr. Graves was buried inside him, pressed deep and Newt thought he could feel him, pulsing within his body.

The alpha shifted and lowered them slowly, going down onto his knees ungracefully. Their combined weight must be heavy Newt thought absently. As they moved he could feel the prick inside him remain deep, locking into him. Knotted, Newt realized. Alphas and omegas knotted.

The cock inside him felt good, snug and warm, filling him in a way that Newt had never known he needed before. And yet he knew now he would always need this, always crave it.

Mr. Grave’s face was pressed into Newt’s neck again, his mouth rasping in air and pressing reverent kisses to his skin. It felt intimate and wonderful, Newt’s fingers gently running through the man’s hair as they stayed there, tied together. 

 

They came apart much later, Newt feeling empty when Mr. Graves pulled out of him. The pulled apart and Newt missed the heat but his muscles were grateful to stretch out, groaning and popping as he weakly sat up and then very shakily stood up.

His dress hung off one shoulder, hanging at his sides, his whole body on display. Feeling embarrassed, Newt fumbled to pull the sides closed.

Mr. Graves stood up as well, fetching his coat and winding it around Newt so he could hide his body.

“T-thank you,” Newt’s voice was hoarse, he had been so noisy his throat was sore now. There was absolutely no way no one had heard them, rutting like beasts. Humiliation and shame flooded him but some part of Newt couldn’t regret what they had done.

That greedy hunger in him had gone still but Newt could feel it in his stomach, waiting to rise again. Not done yet.

“We have time,” Mr. Graves said, voice composed again. “Before you need to mate again, a few hours.”

Newt stared at the ground, not really sure what to say or do. He had no real idea what would happen now.

Normally, this would have shamed his family, but Newt had never heard of an omega mating in a negative way. They mated with an alpha that wasn’t picked for them by their family or they ran off with them, but mating, in general, wasn’t scorned the same was everyone else was.

An alpha and omega simple belonged together, it was natural and undeniable.

“If we hurry, we might catch him, mass should have just ended.”

Newt blinked in confusion, glancing at the other man. Mr. Graves held out a hand and Newt peered at it a moment before reaching out and taking it.

He had just met this man but he knew he trusted him already.

Mr. Graves fixed Newt’s dress with a mending spell, the torn fabric winding back together. It wasn’t the same dress, the cloth pulled a bit tighter and higher since ripped bits had fallen away. But it was proper again. Newt still wore the alpha’s coat over his shoulders, the weight of it felt comforting.

Pickett was in the coat pocket, looking very disapproving of Newt and his new friend. But Newt could only smile, peering at Mr. Graves and seeing him smile back.

They walked hand in hand to the little church on the hill.

The priest greeting them with a knowing look. People had watched them on the street as they went by whispering furiously. It was clear everyone knew what had happened.

The priest looked approving to see them.

Mr. Graves squeezed Newt’s hand and turned to face him on the steps of the church doors. He lifted Newt’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

He looked a bit wild, hair a mess and blood still smeared on his jaw, his shirt pulled loose and his waistcoat torn a bit, his trousers winkled. His eyes were intent though, without shame or care for anything but Newt it seemed.

“Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Newt stared at him, this alpha who had come for Queenie but appeared elated to have Newt instead. Who wanted to marry him right then and there.

It was utterly outrageous and preposterous, to marry someone he had just met, even if they had mated.

But something inside Newt twisted in delight, something whispering that the alpha before him was utterly perfect for him.

Newt had always trusted his gut.

“I’d love too."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say I love the idea of Newt in a flowy silky dress.


	6. Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He must have a reason; he wouldn’t buy them for nothing. The laws on magical creatures are changing thanks to you, a year ago he wouldn’t have been allowed to bring them into America.”
> 
> Newt winced, thinking how his attempts to help had hindered in the end. People allowed to have magical creatures while the creatures themselves had no laws to protect them.
> 
> He couldn’t just leave it as Tina suggested and Newt found himself in front of the Director of Security’s office a few hours later.
> 
> The man answered the door, a hand waving to open it with magic as he sat at his desk and looked over papers.
> 
> “How may I help you Mr. Scamander?”
> 
> “The waheela you purchased,” he began.
> 
> “What of them?” The man inquired and Newt realized how rash he was being, bursting into an office and trying to reproach a man without even knowing if he was mistreating the beasts.
> 
> “M-May I meet them?” He blurted out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shall we all dive in the dumpster of depravity together? 
> 
> Kink warnings: BESTIALITY, Sex with Sentient Animals, Knotting, Master/Pet, Puppy Play, Bondage, Breeding Bench, Drinking and Drugs via Potions, Drunk Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Mind Bond, Implied Mpreg, Voyeurism, BDSM, Riding Crop, Choking, Leash and Collar, Breathe play.

 

Newt has begun with such good intentions.

When he went to visit Tina he heard the rumor that Percival Graves had purchased the last pair of waheela he had immediately worried. They were large bear dogs often referred to as dire wolves. They preferred magical creatures for their main diet and had never hesitated to hunt wizards and witches. That had created such a fear of them that the poor beasts had been hunted to near extinction. There were only two left in the world and now Percival Graves had bought them. Newt felt horrid about it all, wanting to know why the man had done so. Did he think they were nice pets? Were they locked in cages and chained down on display?

Percival Graves was a sombre and intimidating man. He had returned to his job after months of being tortured and remained a strong and capable leader that inspired many. He wore confidence and dominance easily and most of MACUSA was in awe of him or deeply respected him.

Tina was the respectful sort.

“He must have a reason; he wouldn’t buy them for nothing. The laws on magical creatures are changing thanks to you, a year ago he wouldn’t have been allowed to bring them into America.”

Newt winced, thinking how his attempts to help had hindered in the end. People allowed to have magical creatures while the creatures themselves had no laws to protect them.

He couldn’t just leave it as Tina suggested and Newt found himself in front of the Director of Security’s office a few hours later.

The man answered the door, a hand waving to open it with magic as he sat at his desk and looked over papers.

“How may I help you Mr. Scamander?”

“The waheela you purchased,” he began.

“What of them?” The man inquired and Newt realized how rash he was being, bursting into an office and trying to reproach a man without even knowing if he was mistreating the beasts.

“M-May I meet them?” He blurted out.

 

Newt was very surprised to find himself going to the man's home. He walked with Percival after his work shift was finished and he ducked into the floo system and travelled to his house. Newt had not expected the man to agree so easily, to invite Newt into his home. It seemed so odd when Newt had burst into his office and essentially demanded to see the man's creatures. Graves had never been callous to Newt but he also was not overly kind, more indifferent but Newt supposed he was so with everyone he interacted with at work. 

Now he was charming almost has he led Newt through the halls of his home. They were outside the city now, vast acres of land laid out before large windows.

Newt had a growing feeling he had been wrong to question Percival Graves and his care of the waheela.

They entered a large observation room, floor to ceiling bookshelves on three walls and the other nothing but glass windows that showed the beginning of a forest. It was a place of decadence and wealth but Newt’s attention was on the forest outside the large room.

It wasn’t an enclosure.

It was opened land that clearly went on for many miles, they must be far from New York, a vast forest beginning at the windows.

“Not the cage you were expecting?” Graves noted lightly, not quiet scolding Newt for his worries.

“I’m sorry,” he offered honestly and the man looked over at him, hand waving to bring a steaming kettle and cups into the room.

“Oh?”

“I thought the worst without even knowing. I do apologize for that. I only wanted to know they were safe and happy.”

Graves watched him a moment before nodding, motioning to a lush chair across from the one he took.

“The Waheela are something of a family symbol. My family has always had a bond with them, we tried out best to stem their slaughter and mourned when they were killed anyway. I’ve gone to great lengths to find and buy these two.”

Newt nodded his head, knowing they had come from private creature collectors. The terrible sort who thought beasts should be on display rather than left free.

“I’ve been trying to research them. It’s why I invited you here actually.”

Newt blinked, glancing at the other man. Graves was looking out into the forest, eyes steady and his expression for once not so closed off. He looked almost at ease with the forest spread out before them.

“I’ve never encountered them; I’ve read of them a great deal but never met any.”

Graves shook his head sadly.

“They are almost gone now, only a few left. I’m hoping to try and find mates for them.”

“Mates?”

“The Graves have many books on waheela, first-hand accounts of them. They mate for life you see, the adolescent males seeking females. They’ve been known to travel across the continent searching.”

Newt’s heart hurt for these poor beasts, doomed to hunt for mates that they would never find.

“I’ve been trying other breeds close to them, black dogs for example, canine based creatures. If only for companionship,” Graves explained and Newt nodded, his mind whirling in thought.

“Hellhounds would be larger, closer to their size. Keelut are isolated, a cerburus or raiju maybe,” Newt went through the various beasts he could call up off hand and how they might work together.

“It would help me a great deal to know more about the waheela.”

Graves motioned a hand and a stack of books came off the shelf, some handwritten journals.

“This is what I have on them that I know is factual. From what I can understand, a single female would be enough. In dire times polygamy is common among them.”

“Really, how unusual for a magical creature, most bond mate or prefer isolation.”

Graves nodded, pouring them both steaming cups. Newts was a proper English tea while Graves seemed to be making himself a coffee.

“They share within their familiar packs, from what I understand these two are brothers and so they would bond and coexist with a shared mate.”

Newt couldn’t help but ask more questions, Graves was a wealth of knowledge on a mysterious creature. It was delightful that he wasn’t bias either, never thinking the waheela something to be tamed or feared.

They shared dinner in a small kitchen, the man of obvious wealth having no problem sitting at a preparation table and eating as a house elf served them and ate herself as well. It reflected the sort of master Graves was to the creature and Newt felt his heart open a touch more.

Newt talked about his travels, about the world and all the creatures he had met. Graves liked hearing about them, asking questions and letting Newt separate myth from the truth for him.

They ended up back in the observation room with the windows, Newt accepting a drink that was unique to the Graves family.

“Just a bit, I shouldn’t have drunk wine at dinner,” he explained feeling a touch tipsy.

“Celliane means well, she likes a proper meal no matter where I eat. She might faint if I suggested not having a fine wine with dinner,” he chuckled lightly and Newt smiled as well. House elves could be endlessly stubborn about the oddest things.

Newt was back in his chair watching Percival across the room as he mixed drinks at a small bar, adding bits of this and that with a skilled ease. It was clear he was probably very good at making potions.

A movement took Newt’s breath, something lurking in the forest outside the windows.

The waheela was massive, Newt truly understood the concept of the bear dog when he saw it. It appeared like a common wolf at first glance but was far larger, bulky and powerful looking like a bear in many ways. It was a mix of black and grey colouring and its eyes were a striking gold shade. The gaze shifted to fixate on Newt and he looked down immediately, not wishing to challenge the creature.

A second came along, a bit smaller than the first.

“They’re gorgeous aren’t they?” Graves remarked, walking to Newt and offering a small glass of a green liquid that glimmered with golden dust. He held his own out and Newt clinked glasses with him. Graves took his drink in a single swallow so Newt followed suit. It wasn’t a strong as he expected, more light and delicate tasting, almost sweet but not quite. Unique and lovely really.

“They really are,” Newt agreed. He watched the man set down his glass and motion Newt to follow him. One of the glass windows was a secret door and it opened up for them, leaving them with nothing between them and the creatures.

“Is this wise?”

“They’re sentient,” Graves divulged and Newt blinked and stared as the man held out a hand to the large of the two waheelas. It scented his hand and then sat back, head tipped as it peered at Newt curiously.

“This is Newton Scamander, a British Magizoologist. He’s agreed to help me try and find a mate that would be compatible with you and your brother.”

“Hello,” Newt offered, not meeting the gaze but carefully holding out a hand for the beasts to scent him.

Both came forward, such massive predators but Newt was composed as they scented his hand curiously. Graves watched with open approval of Newt's calm.

The large male nudged Newt’s hand under its nose and he felt an impression of welcome, a vague idea that he was known among magical creatures, trusted and celebrated.

“Oh,” Newt breathed out as the beast broke the touch. “They’re telepathic.”

“In a sense, they don’t think in words like people, more of instincts and emotions,” Graves explained and Newt nodded his head. He was already fascinated and intrigued with these new creatures, his heart hurting that they were the last of their kind, hunted so callously.

“I promise that I am here to help you,” he told them both. “I’ll do everything I can to assist.”

They watched him a moment before slinking off, back into the forest they called their home now.

“They’re amazing,” Newt gushed, unable to help it. His body pumping adrenaline and his mind soaring with meeting such amazing beasts.

“They really are,” Graves agreed with a warm smirk, looking so handsome like that. He poured them another drink and they chatted late, talking about potential mates and how Newt could help protect them by including them in his book.

Percival had plans to speak out in MACUSA on their behalf, to try and submit a law to protect them and other magical creatures in America.

He was far more collected and poised than Newt but it was obvious he really believed in defending magical creatures. It was clear he cared about them and that endeared Newt to him so much more.

They kept drinking and Newt honestly wasn’t sure who kissed who first. His hands pulling at Percival’s waistcoat as the man pressed him down on his back on a couch.

Hands were all over his body and before long Newt was stripped down and being opened up. He whimpered, biting his lip as Percival’s fingers worked his body. The man poured a slippery potion on his fingers and it made Newt slicked and ready to take his cock.

Percival was wonderfully rough. Newt adored a bit of a feral touch and he encouraged the man to fuck him good and hard.

“Like it like one of your beasts?” Percival teased him, not truly mocking. He was still dressed, his trousers undone so his cock was out and inside Newt’s arse.

“Very much,” he agreed, a bit drunk and too honest and the man over him smirked, looking a bit feral himself as he lunged oh so hard into Newt’s body. It felt frantic and rushed, everything spinning a bit. Newt really shouldn’t have drunk as much as he did. But he was still in his mind, still able to consent and eager to be taken by this fascinating man.

 

Newt woke in bed the next morning with a pounding headache.

Celliane the house elf appeared and gave him a potion. Newt drank it and sighed out as the pain in his skull faded away. There were some perks of being a wizard that were wholly self-indulging some days.

“Feel better?” Percival asked as he stepped from a bathroom, doing his shirt cuffs up.

“Much,” Newt replied, feeling a bit shy as the man sat on the side of the bed and leaned in to press a light kiss to the corner of Newt’s mouth. He smelt of a fine aftershave and his touch was light enough not to be overwhelming. Newt never did well with overly clingy partners.

“I’ve got to leave for work right away but I wanted to ask how long you planned to stay and where?”

Newt fought down a yawn, his body not ready to wake just yet. The sun ware barely rising through the window.

“A week, I’m going to head down to Mexico for a month or so after this. I had thought to stay with Tina and Queenie.”

“If I can proposition you, stay here. Celliane will give you access to the floo and you’ll have more time to interact with the waheela that way.”

Newt hesitated, worrying this man was reading more into what Newt was able to give.

“Although you mustn’t take it personally if I’m not here very often. Work has a tendency to run late. It’s no slight on you, but I can’t slack in my job.”

“Of course, I understand completely. I would be happy to stay if you truly don’t mind.”

Percival grinned.

“It would be such a hardship, to have this gorgeous man in my bed. I might not be around often but I will come home every night and give you a good fucking.”

“That would be lovely,” Newt agreed. With Percival gone most of the day, Newt could focus on the waheela and in the night he would enjoy a bed partner. Newt went too long without one when he travelled it felt like. Perhaps they might work something out between them, a casual relationship for when Newt could visit.

Percival left for work and Newt dozed for an hour more before waking up. Celliane had a breakfast waiting for him and Newt thanked her and they chatted as he ate. Once he was finished, he went down into his suitcase and did his morning rounds. He spent most of his morning and afternoon working with his creatures and then went back up to write a note to Tina and let her know he had somewhere to stay.

Celliane had a light late lunch waiting for him in the observation room. Newt beginning to read some of the books Percival had shown him as he ate. He felt the distinct impression he was being watched midmeal. He couldn’t see either waheela but he didn’t doubt they were there, watching him. Such amazing creatures, Newt couldn’t help but get caught up in the information on them. The books carried the same lovely tone as Percival had, nothing condemning about the creatures at all. They did warn though, caution wizards not to disrespect these beasts unless they wanted to find themselves made into a meal.

There was also plenty of their mating habits. The lead male would be the one to find the first female, seeking them and drawing them to the pack territory. If they were a strong and healthy pack the lesser males would make the journey as well, one at a time. If the pack was weak or their lands not vast enough, they would settle and all bond with the female the lead male brought back. They would all sire cubs off of her, sharing her in every way which was rather unique. Most magical creatures still had the base need to reproduce, to be possessive of any opportunity to breed. The waheela were truly fascinating creatures.

 

As the days drifted by, he simply couldn’t learn enough, taking down notes in his own journal and doing sketches when he saw the waheela. He was content in the Graves manor and it surprised him a bit. But the house was surrounded by vast forestry and everything about it was natural and wonderful. Large windows that let in light, plants everywhere in the rooms, even entire walls of live plants and just so pulsing with life. Percival kept no beasts that weren’t already a domesticated breed, he had kneazles and crups wandering about as they pleased. Fairies and puffskeins floating in the sunlight. It was all very enchanting really.

Percival himself was warm and charming and so very good at sex. He picked up very quickly that Newt was a bit of a sexual deviant and to his delight, Percival was no better.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” Percival crooned down at Newt. He had him spread out on the bed on his back, Percival between his thighs and fucking him savagely. His one hand was closed on Newt’s neck and squeezing down, choking him with the perfect amount of pressure. Such a firm and certain grip that made Newt want to sob gratefully. He would tighten his grip enough that Newt’s throat burned and his eyes watered, his mind floating a bit. Coupled with the furious pace of the cock slamming into him, it all felt so deliriously good.

“We need to get you a nice tight collar I think, something pretty to match you,” Percival mused, just the slightest pant to his voice for how hard his body was currently working. He was a fit man and he used that so well on Newt. Pinned him down to the bed effortlessly, trained in so many ways to overpower others and hold them down.

“You’d be a proper bitch then,” he growled and Newt whined high as he came untouched.

Percival was very good at sex.

 

Newt was almost sad when the week had passed and it was time for him to go. He had only seen the waheela a handful of times, usually when Percival was around to coax them. There was still so much for Newt to learn from them. He would miss the man himself too, his amused smirks and powerful grace. Newt was sore in the best way, his arse still a bit tingling from a riding crop the night before.

But the call to wander couldn’t be ignored, always seducing Newt to go and find some new place, to discover new magical creatures.

So off he went to Mexico to study a group of occamy that had set up there home in the jungles.

While he worked, his mind kept drifting back to the manor. 

Newt found himself daydreaming a bit on it and he wondered what this new attachment was and how deep it went.

 

So he found a charismatic and attractive wizard named Juan and let him take him home. The sex had been a bit ordinary but the man had given it his best. Newt had smiled encouraging and managed to come to the memory of Percival choking him.

He supposed he had found himself a little slice of heaven then, a wonderful man both outside and in bed. Rare creatures to study and a vast manor that was serene yet still brimming with life.

When Newt finished his work in Mexico he headed back up to America rather than crossing the sea as originally intended. He met new beasts along the way and didn’t rush to return back to New York.

In the end though, he did return.

“I found a bit of time,” he lied when he found Percival in his office.

“Did you now?” The man smirked as he sat back in his chair and waved a hand so his door closed and the lock clicked.

Newt could feel a thrill rushing through him.

In no time at all, he was stripped down and bend over the desk, Percival’s tie wrapped around Newt’s neck as the man fucked him. He used the tie like a leash, pulling Newt to ‘sit pretty’. It was so humiliating and terrible and Newt was begging for more with every breath he could manage to get in.

“Did you let someone fuck you?” The man asked, pulling Newt’s back in each lunge. “You feel loose for months on your own.”

“Weeks ago, a very nice man,” he replied. They had made no promises and Percival had told Newt he had no expectations on such things. Newt was free to do as he wished, to sleep with who he wanted.

“How was it?”

Newt sobbed out, Percival was putting his weight on him, pinning Newt down onto the desk as he pounded into him so cruelly. One hand holding the tie tightly so Newt’s head was bent back, just enough room so he could breathe.

“T-terrible,” Newt’s voice was strained, the words cut low by the silk around his neck.

“Was he kind? Thoughtful? Did his kiss you softly and hold your hand?” Percival teased and they both knew it was the truth. That Newt wanted something not many men would give him without knowing him well. Without a proper relationship.

“A bitch like you needs a firm hand, a strict master,” Percival purred and Newt came with a shiver.

 

Newt began to visit New York more often. Every few months he would make time to stop there. Percival was a wealthy man and happy to pay for the travel, offering port keys and other expedited methods to travel.

So Newt would go and spend a few days being fucked and studying the waheela. As the months slipped by, the beasts began to trust him more. They would come visit him without Percival needing to be there. They would press against his legs and let him touch them. Impressions of happiness to see him and hope for his search for them. They would play with him at times, knocking into him and batting at his legs. They treated him like a cub, gentle games and Newt was delighted to interact with them.

“You’ve created a true bond,” Percival told him. He was at the glass door, leaning against it and watching as Newt rolled in the dirt with the smaller male in the sunlight. Gaheris was the younger brother and Geraint the elder and calmer one. There was a notable size difference between them and Percival had his house elves feeding the smaller male to keep him healthy. They hunted their own meals in the forest, deer and rabbits being their main food source. Magical creatures weren’t as common and so they made do. Although Percival was certain there were mooncalves and other magical creatures in the forest, the waheela likely feeding on them as well.

Percival and his books didn’t know if the waheela needed to eat magical beings for any special reasons but both males had been thriving since they arrived. Newt would take care to mention it, that they likely could live on regular animals.

Neither male had ever seemed aggressive or predatory towards Newt or Percival either. Some creatures would get lost in their instincts to hunt, Newt had seen it before. But both waheela remained in control at all times. Really Newt was in more danger when Gaheris got over excited wrestling with him, the male forgetting his bulk and how delicate Newt was in comparison. Geriant would snarl at them, reminding his sibling to play nice with Newt.

Their obvious personalities and emotions only convinced Newt more that he just had to find some female for them to live out their days with. They wouldn’t be able to have cubs of their own but they might have a family unit. Newt has been researching carefully and he felt hellhounds would be the best bet, a pack canine that had the size and strength to keep up with the waheela. He was currently waiting to discover one in need of relocation, not wanting to just take one from it’s home. 

Percival pushed away from the windows and walked over to them, Gaheris greeting him with a friendly nudge. Newt was down in the dirt on his backside, panting a bit with the effort of wrestling a large beast.

“You look good like that, rolling in the dirt like an animal,” Percival’s voice took on that low tone that had the hairs on Newt’s neck standing. They were in a secluded area, hidden away with no one to see but it still felt so wicked, outside.

Newt sat forward, going onto his hands and knees and butting the man’s leg affectionately, playing the role. They had been exploring this sexual fetish, of Newt pretending to be a pet. He found himself liking it a great deal, knowing just how to act like a dog or a wolf. Sometimes a waheela or hellhound, magical canines and their behaviour. Percival always figured out the subtle difference as well, knowing exactly which beast Newt was mimicking.

“If you were a waheela bitch we’d all have you, taking turns fucking you,” Percival mused and Newt shivered a bit at the idea of it. He’d barely be able to keep up, Percival always left him breathless, the idea of two more would sure leave Newt utterly fucked out.

Lifting his foot, Percival put his shoe on Newt’s shoulder and gently but firmly led him down. Newt whined as he went, his face in the dirt as the shoe rest on the back of his neck. His shoulders pressed to the earth while his arse remained raised high. He could feel his cock fattening up and his hole clenching and longing to be filled.

“Lick it,” Percival commanded as he moved his foot off Newt’s neck and put it in front of his face.

Feeling so wickedly wrong, Newt obeyed, lapping at the shiny leather and tasting the dirt on it.

Gaheris pressed his snout in, trying to understand why Newt was licking. His large face pressed close and Newt shivered at the feel of the beast’s fur on his cheek and shoulder. The impression of curiosity.

“He’s being obedient,” Percival told the creature. “A good bitch.”

Newt felt something curl around his neck, Percival’s magic guiding a collar to snap around his throat. It felt restricting and like an ownership and Newt found himself revelling in it. The idea of Percival holding this power over him all because Newt chooses to let him have it.

A delicate leash came and snapped to the ring of the collar and Newt was tugged up, back to his hands and knees.

“Come along, I’ve plans for you tonight,” Percival decreed and Newt whined out as he followed. Crawling subserviently after the man who led him by the leash like he was a common pet.

“It took time, it was a custom order, but I wanted it to be perfect,” he explained as Newt found a black leather contraption in the observatory. The chairs moved aside and the black wood and leather piece of furniture front and centre. There was a padded top with four thick legs, a bit like a low sawhorse.

“It’s a breeding bench,” Percival explained and Newt trembled at the realization. Thick leather cuffs on the end of each leg, for his wrists and knees to be bound into. “And you’re going to be on it tonight.”

They didn’t rush into play, Percival liked to work Newt up and watch him squirm for it. So he stripped him down naked and put a thick plug into his arse. A too big thing that made Newt’s poor hole ache trying to adjust. There was a fluffy tail on the end of it that hung between his thighs, teasing his cock each time he moved.

Feeling degraded and exposed, Newt crawled after Percival to the kitchens and ate his meal from a bowl on the floor. It was a thick stew that he had to lap at and was unable to eat without getting all over his face. Celliane was thankfully nowhere to be seen, leaving only Percival and Newt. The man smirked down at him from the table and would reach with a napkin to wipe Newt’s face, reminding him of the mess he was making.

“Every drop now,” he reminded Newt and watched him struggle to lick the bowl clean without using his hands, chasing it across the floor.

His cock was achingly hard, his hole feeling so opened and the tail torturing Newt now. He wanted so badly to come and he knew it would be hours yet. Percival would draw this out until Newt was broken by it, begging and crying for anything the man would give him.

They went back to the observatory, the doors still opened to the forest but the waheela gone now, likely off to hunt as darkness descended.

The breeding bench remained waiting for Newt.

Percival stopped and made them a drink, mixing his favourite and he had Newt sit at his knee and raise his head to swallow it when Percival gave him one. The second was more potent, laced with a lust potion. Percival took his own, his eyes glinting with a wicked intention.

Once Newt felt light headed and his desire began to burn far too hot, Percival led him over to the bench.

“Eight taps, two fast and then two slow, and then four fast, like this,” Percival showed him, tapping the edge of the leg of the bench. “It will undo the cuffs immediately.” 

Newt nodded in understanding, not speaking as animals did not speak. He liked that aspect, not having to trip over words.

Percival guided him onto the bench, his stomach and chest resting on the comfortable padding as the cuffs locked on his wrists and knees, keeping his thighs spread out wide in submission. Newt was trapped kneeling down like a beast, his arse slightly raised in offering to whoever wanted it.

“Tap the rhythm to release them.”

Newt did it.

Percival redid the cuffs with a wave of magic.

“Again.”

Newt obeyed, doing it over until Percival was certain Newt could escape if needed.

“Head up, pretty bitch,” he instructed and Newt lifted his head high. Percival had a gag in his hand, a ring of metal that fit into Newt’s mouth and didn’t let him close it all the way, his lips just parted.

“Perfection,” the man declared, walking around Newt and taking in every bare inch of him.

“Let’s see what it can take, shall we?”

Newt felt the blindfold wrap around him just as Percival picked up a riding crop.

Anticipation and the lust potion made Newt squirm, biting down on the gag as he waited for the first sting.

It came across his thighs, making him jerk hard. Percival followed it with four more in rapid succession, up Newt’s arse and along his back. He circled Newt’s prone form lazily and landed hits without warning. They had a bit of pain but didn’t linger, the crop spelled not to leave any lasting damage. So Percival could hit Newt over and over without breaking his skin, he could lash him so hard and the bite would be so exquisite but then fade within a moment, leaving Newt needing more. 

The gag made him drool, spit running down his chin as he couldn’t close his mouth. Each muffled cry from the blows making more of a mess. A drooling beast.

Newt’s cock was throbbing, needing just a bit more to finish.

Percival stopped then as if he knew it and Newt sobbed, pulling on the bindings. His hips were resting on the padding and his knees secured tightly so Newt couldn't even thrust. He was completely at the man’s mercy.

“Pretty bitch, such a fine specimen, a beautiful thing like you should be put on display, show off. Bred up, I bet you’d make gorgeous pups.”

Newt whined out as Percival’s hand ran along his back and arse, fingers light and teasing.

He yanked the plug out without warning Newt jolting at the red-hot pain of the fat thing coming out that caught him off guard. It only lasted a second though and Newt was left feeling exposed, his hole loose and trembling. He clenched down but still felt so open.

“Utterly gorgeous,” Percival breathed from behind him, gentle fingers caressing Newt’s rim, running along the edge and sinking in easily, three fingers going without effort.

Something cold touching him there startled him and Newt whined as something long and thick slid up into him. He couldn’t tell what it was but he felt it pouring inside him, something slippery running down his thighs as Percival eased it back and out of him. His hole clenched and made wet sounds now, clenching on the lubricant pumped into him.

“You’ve such a pretty cunt, so pink and gleaming,” Percival breathed out, sounding so admiring as his fingers wiped along the slicked hole.

Newt heard the zip of trousers and his body trembled with excitement, eager to be taken and used.

“Are you read you to be bred, my precious bitch?”

Newt nodded his head in the small bit of room he had too. Whining out as Percival slid his cock into him. He teased so terribly first, rubbing it over his rim and popping the tip in and out. Newt couldn’t move his hips at all and he bucked in the restraints, trying to take more.

Percival chuckled at him, finally slamming into Newt and making him croon in relief, not caring about the spit running down his chin as he arched his back and relished in the feeling of a cock inside him. The alcohol and lust potion was making the world a bit hazy, everything burning so bright. Newt needed to come, he just needed it so very badly.

A savage ram into him made him cry out again, quivering with how good it felt. The slack leash at his neck lifted with magic, twisting around to the back of his neck and Percival took hold of it. Pulling until Newt was straining to breathe, his hands cuffed to the floor and his neck only able to bend back so far.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Percival told him.

A soft chime made them both startle. The sound of a fire call echoing down the hall. Percival’s hands ran down Newt’s back and calmed the panic in him.

“They can’t see, the fireplace is in the other room,” he reassured quickly and Newt slumped in relief.

“Why don’t you wait here for a bit? Really think on how hard you’re going to get fucked,” Percival teased as he stepped back and Newt whimpered as the man’s footsteps faded down the hallways, going to answer the call somewhere else. The man was only contacted at home for serious issues. 

Newt remained there, waiting for him to come back, his body aching with need. His head still spinning with no way to anchor himself. He whined out and clenched his hole, wanting to be filled again.

Something clinked delicately, the wind dancing on Newt’s skin. But he could feel a presence in the room. He fumbled to tap the rhythm to release the cuffs when fur brushed his side and a nose puffed in greeting at his ear. Newt relaxed, knowing it was only Gaheris and Geriant come exploring. They had come into the observatory before, everything in the room spelled to be resistant to them.

Newt realized he could hear the faint patter of rain and that the waheela had come to escape the rain.

One of them, Gaheris likely, sniffed at Newt’s face and licked at him without warning, cleaning the spit off his face as Newt tried to move his head away and escape it. Lust poured through him, the potion making him so needy that any stimulation felt good.

Geraint’s cold nose on his backside made Newt jerk hard, the beast’s hot tongue licking over his arse. It’s tongue like nothing else, long and flat as it lapped over his dripping hole. He could feel them both, curious for this display he was putting on, sensing his lust and answering it with their own.

Newt fought the bindings, whimpering in alarm as the two creatures kept licking at him, at his face and backside, duel sensations that were making his body throb for more.

His fingers fumbled the release rhythm but missed a beat.

Newt crying out as Geraint’s tongue disappeared and then a sudden great weight was on Newt’s back. He could feel the creatures hunger and feral excitement, he had never mated before. Newt would be his first.

The weight of him nearly took Newt's breath, pushing him into the padding as the creature on top of him adjusted and found his footing. Something hot and long pushed at Newt’s backside, sliding up along the cleft of his arse. Pulsing and dripping as it rocked back and forth.

It felt divine.

Newt was repulsed but it felt so good, so massive and just promising something terrible. Geriant's own lust a simple but powerful thing. There was an excited bitch displaying and so he would mate him. Percival was pack and would share his mate. Newt sobbed at the waheela's thoughts, impressions of Newt with them from before and bonding, the mistaken impression they would all share him.

Newt tried to think clearly and make him understand but the lust potion was muddling his mind, the cock against his skin feeling so heavy and promising.

The beast over him growled, Geriant warning Gaheris away no doubt, the young male whining as he watched them.

Newt’s fingers found the unlock rhythm and the cuffs unlocked. He reached back, grabbing Geraint’s front legs around his waist and the beast thrust again, that fat cock kissing Newt’s hole lewdly. Sloppy with lubricant and clenching down on nothing. Newt moaned out unwillingly, his fingers trembling in the fur he was gripping but not pushing the creature off of him.

Geraint’s breath panted on his neck and shoulder and he moved back, crouching low as his cock slide back. He wanted in, wanted to know what mating felt like. Since he grew into a male he had wanted this. Newt felt him ease forward with more care than before. The tip of the waheela’s cock finding his rim and pressing in a few inches.

Move, he screamed at himself but his body stayed there, quivering as it was finally filled up, finally given something to hold inside it. The knowledge that the beast over him was excited for this, he could feel the delight and hunger. Geriant wanted him and Newt couldn't make himself stop the poor creature.

Newt screamed out, the gag muffling it when Geraint slammed into him.

It was nothing like a man, nothing about it feeling controlled in any way. No care for Newt’s body as the beast claimed a mate. Took a hole to fill up, to breed Newt. His mind sank into Newt's own, the base thought to breed, to fill and create cubs overpowering Newt.

The bench groaned under the strain as the beast began to fuck Newt. His massive cock feeling like it was splitting him open. But his insides were so stretched and the friction felt amazing. Newt sobbed out, drooling running down his face at the waheela fucked him. He moved with such power, his body lunging over Newt’s smaller one. He felt tiny and delicate, at the mercy of the creature over him. His mind chanting that he had to have cubs, had to be bred. 

Gaheris licked at his face again, tongue running over Newt’s mouth, an obscene sort of kiss as Geriant pounded into Newt. The younger waheela was excited and eager, wanting his turn. The older one giving Newt short brutal thrusts, going fast and untamed, the too big cock pulsing in inside him so powerfully.

With a broken sound, Newt came.

His cock pulsing its seed as he shook apart at the seams. It was intense, everything burning far too high and the humiliation of what was happening twisting into an obscene delight as Newt revelled in it for a few amazing moments. He was being bred, taking the seed to make cubs, to make a family for them all. 

He was a bitch, a true bitch under a beast.

Newt felt when the cock locked in him, when Geriant pulled back and his body was forced to go as well, their bodies linked in an undeniable way.

Newt was knotted to a waheela.

Degraded tears soaked the blindfold as he sobbed and Gaheris nudged his face in worry. Geriant licked at his hair soothingly. Both of them expressing concern for him. Geriant's mind echoing the pulse of the knot and the pleasure he was feeling inside Newt. His poor ass was throbbing as well, the knot swelled up and filled him with more semen then his body knew what to do with.

“Oh Gods,” Percival breathed and Newt jolted as if burned, scrambling to do something and not knowing what.

He was tied to the waheela, there was nowhere to hide. Newt yanked off the blindfold and pulled at the gag, humiliated tears running down his face.

“I knew you wanted to be a bitch, I didn’t realize how much,” Percival said and Newt froze. Trembling as Percival walked around them. Gaheris greeted the man with a sniff and nudge and Geriant remained over Newt, locked into him. Percival looked stunned but not horrified, not utterly disgusted. He should have been screaming and raging but he looked transfixed.

“How does it feel? Is he knotted inside you?”

Newt swallowed, licking his lips and trying to find himself as everything in him threatened to crumble down.

“It’s…. large,” he finally whimpered, eyes closing as he felt the knot in him pulsating still, his stomach beginning to ache with how much semen was being put inside him. 

“You’ve a belly, he must be pumping so much,” Percival muttered, eyes locked on Newt and Geriant, a dark haze of lust in his gaze. Those eyes cut to Newt’s own and he stared back, quivering.

“Do you like it?”

Newt sobbed out in shame but nodded his head, clenching his body down on the massive cock inside him. It had claimed him so roughly the bestial sex had been amazing. The waheela over him felt content and affectionate, so pleased with Newt and happy he was part of their family now.

Geriant pulled off him not long after Percival came back, the knot shrinking down until he shifted and came free. The long cock dropping out of Newt and semen gushing out after it. The man checked Newt’s hole and made sure he wasn’t torn. His poor rim clenching uselessly as semen dripped steadily.

Geriant gave off a satisfied air, slumping by the door to clean his red cock. It was almost the side of Newt’s wrist and length of his forearm, so thick and long and it had been in him.

Gaheris whined out, trying to worm between Newt and Percival, lapping at Newt’s used hole and humping the air. His mind impressed his eagerness to have Newt, to make the bond with them all and try his best to breed him.

“They share everything,” Percival said, looking to Newt. He quivered, laid out on his back now, knees spread as Percival stood between them and made sure he was ok.

“Do you want me to send them out?”

Tears ran down Newt’s face and he shook his head in negative.

Gaheris was younger and more eager, fumbling to line up and whining as he desperately tried to get inside Newt. His mind was bright with over eagerness and he was determined to do well.

“He’s a virgin after all,” Percival muttered, standing aside and watching them.

Newt was still on his back, knees spread wide and around the waheela as he did his best to get into Newt.

The tip finally caught and Newt made a gutted sound as he was rammed into. His fingers clenched in fur at Gaheris fucked him with that same furious pace, led by the instinct to breed. His mind washed over Newt the same way Geriant's had. An overwhelming need to be bred and carry cubs, the pleasure there but the drive to breed so strong as well. Making everything burn more urgently.

Percival cursed softly, cupping his erection in his trousers as he watched Newt get pounded by a beast. His whole body being jerked so roughly as the waheela used him, claimed him, took sloppy seconds.

They were sloppy too. Wet sounds each time the creature thrust, Newt’s poor hole so abused and overfilled, dripping semen as he arched his back and moaned out. His cock was hard again, aching as the waheela put him in his place.

Where Newt belonged, moaning on a knot like a bitch in heat.

He came to the twisted thought, his whole body exhausted as he clenched down and just came. Everything shaking apart again, the climaxes so intense as the beast fucked him, used him as it pleased. As it's feral urges told him too. It was so big inside him, the knot swelling so it could lock into Newt and pump another load into his belly, the males trying their best to breed him.

The bench rocked a bit, a dull thump, thump, as Gaheris began to lock inside him, slowing his pace until they were tied together tightly.

“You’re a real bitch now,” Percival breathed in awe and Newt wanted to break down and cry in mortification and degradation. But his whole body was still aching so pleasurably, this terrible and wrong act feeling so amazing even without a lust potion to blame.

Newt felt far away from the world, like when he fell into being a pet for Percival. Everything seemed to float a bit.

Gaheris knotted him and it seemed too soon when he pulled away, coming free with a wet splash of semen on Newt's sticky skin. His stomach was bloated with it still. Percival was there right away, nudging his knees wide and pushing into Newt’s used body.

“Fuck, you feel so loose, they stretched your cunt so wide,” he muttered. Newt whimpered and Percival fucked him, licking at his neck as Newt just held on to him. It didn’t feel like it took long before he was coming, adding his seed into Newt’s body. The urge to breed still in his mind, the waheela leaving Newt's mind confused. He wanted to carry cubs, wanting Percival to put them in him, wanting them all to breed him. Newt was lost in the sensations and he held onto Percival, his only anchor as the waves rose around him and swallowed Newt whole.

 

Percival lovingly carried Newt to the bathtub and washed him, Newt a mess of whimpering and clinging tightly to him. Still needing the man to feel grounded. Percival whispered in his ear, about how lovely he was and how perfect he had been. That the man would keep this secret and no one else would never know what Newt had done with the waheela, what he would do again. Newt knew he would too, they had created something between them all tonight, Newt linked to Gaheris and Geraint now. Newt sobbed in shame as reality snapped at him but Percival held him through it, chasing away the demons until Newt was all cried out and utterly exhausted.

The bed was cool and everything Newt wanted, Percival curled around him snuggly as Newt was able to finally let go and his mind sagged down into the darkness.

 

“Oh my,” a woman’s voice gasped, a bit scandalized. The click of shoes announcing the arrival of guests.

“My apologies,” Percival’s charming voice said. “We are trying to breed them you see,” he explained lightly and voices murmured in agreement.

Newt glanced over, feeling far away and floating. Six people he didn’t know were watching him, coming into the observation room and sitting on the chairs set out.

“This is what I wanted to speak to you about, the waheela race is on the brink of extinction, a wizarding creature about to die out while normal animals thrive. We should be ashamed of ourselves, that no maj take better care of their beasts than we do. We must preserve out magical creatures.” Percival’s voice was soothing and had a commanding touch. He would win these people over and convince them to support the new laws to protected magical creatures, to stop them from being hunted or harmed unfairly.

They weren’t the first group, nor would they be the last.

Geriant ignored them, fucking into Newt. His mind only caring for how good it felt, the tight heat around his cock. He would breed Newt, would put his cubs in his belly. Their shared mate.

Newt was down on his hands and knees under the waheela, his body being jerkily bounced with each thrust into his hole. Tears ran down his face at the glorious stretch inside him, his whole body made to open so wide for the beast to use him.

His collar was a comfort on his neck, just tight enough to remind him it was there. That when these people saw them, they saw a female waheela and not Newt himself.

They were just outside the observatory doors, in the dirt as they mated like animals, Newt a true bitch now.

Percival was trying to figure out the right spells to let him be bred, to make Newt actually carry cubs. It was an overwhelming thought but when Newt was on the knot he knew he wanted it. Wanted his stomach to round out with life like no man’s should. It was so recklessly wicked and sinful, to think of it. But when he was clear-headed, Newt couldn’t deny he might save the waheela race. If he could carry enough cubs, they could breed together. Percival’s books had made it clear that any incest consequences would be fixed through their magic.

Newt could save the entire species.

Both his mates were determined to breed him and some base thing in Newt had bloomed as well. He wanted to be bred, wanted to carry cubs for them.

He whimpered out as the knot began to fill inside him, the creature on his back panting out as it gave short little lunges that made Newt’s body thrust back and forth.

One of the women was watching still, her gaze locked on them as Newt took a knot deep inside and came apart on the burn of it. Cock spilling as he gasped softly. Geriant's mind washing over him, pulsing with the hungry need to fill Newt to the very brim. He couldn't help but agree, their minds blending in a simple need to breed and be bred.

Newt had begun with such good intentions.

Had never realized what was happening.

It was only when Newt was addicted to being knotted that it occurred to him.

The breeding bench was too low for Percival to fuck him without bending down.

It was the perfect height for the waheela.

Good intentions against wicked ones, Newt thought dazedly, looking at Percival and watching him smirk back, too far gone to ever hope to escape.

Too far gone to even want too.

 


	7. Gender Bend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young lady was sneaking across his lawn, peering under his small deck and poking in the bushes, very clearly looking for something. She was wearing a modest white dress done up to her neck and white opaque stocking under her skirts. Her toes peeking out from under the material as she leaned down low to look along the flower bed.
> 
> Her rear in the air, Percival noticed it was rather nice looking.
> 
> He had missed having bed sport. It had only been a month, but he felt his cock perking up as the young lady crawled around on his grass looking for some lost pet.
> 
> Percival just couldn't resist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this isn't full genderbend as Percival is still a man and Newt kinda identifies as a female but not entirely? I tried. 
> 
> For my sweetie who's had a rough time. For you. <3
> 
> **Kinks for this: Intersex, Intersex Newt, Female Identifying Newt, Newt in dresses and women's underthings, Sibling Incest, Minor BDSM, Loss of Virginity, Rimming, Snowballing, Come Eating, Cunt Licking, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Anal Plug, Vaginal Sex, Spying, Voyeurism, Gender Fluid,**

 

Percival was in his new house for a month before he ever saw her.

A year in London to work with the Ministry had been important, Percival needed that experience abroad to be considered for promotions. If he was going to become the Director of Security like he intended, he needed to work hard for it.

So he took a last-minute chance to cross the sea for a year and had ended up in a rushed housing situation. The Ministry of Magic had entire neighborhoods bought for magic folk and they had their own row houses for temporary housing for their employees.

They were rather nice, done up with modern furnishings and all the wizarding touches that made a home comfortable. Percival hadn’t spared much of a thought beyond that, intent to begin work and start making connections. He would do proper auror work eventually but had a whole new set of laws and restrictions to learn quickly before he went out into the field.

So for his first month in London, it was entirely possible that Percival never looked out his window.

Then one day he did.

The backyards were small but filled with lush magical gardens, teeming with plants and flowers that looked picturesque and self-minded for easy care. Percival hadn’t even been in his backyard yet and it still looked as pristine as when he arrived.

But it wasn’t the yard that had his eye.

A young lady was sneaking across his lawn, peering under his small deck and poking in the bushes, very clearly looking for something.

Percival wouldn’t have cared normally. The neighbourhood was known for housing aurors and their families, and what more this girl was clearly on the innocent side. She was wearing a modest white dress done up to her neck and white opaque stocking under her skirts. Her toes peeking out of the material as she leaned down low to look along the flower bed.

Her rear in the air, Percival noticed it was rather nice looking.

He had missed having bed sport. It had been a month since he left but Percival was used to plenty of men and women willing to sleep with him and expect nothing more. In London, he had to be careful, had to make sure not to break the wrong heart or unintentionally lead someone on. They could end up the niece or brother of someone high in power and it could end Percival’s career. Politics always a mix of striving to do well and knowing the right people.

It had only been a month, but he felt his cock perking up as the young lady crawled around on his grass looking for some lost pet.

Percival just couldn't resist.

“May I help you?” He asked when he stepped onto his deck, watching the poor thing startle so badly. She jerked up into a sitting position and stared at Percival in dismay, utterly caught.

She was rather gorgeous, a pretty full mouth and high cheekbones, a smattering of freckles and alluring red hair. Percival’s mom was Irish and insisted it was in his blood to have a weakness for redheads. But beyond that, there was such a gentle air about this woman, something absolutely sweet and pure without being too childlike.

Percival abruptly wanted to sully her very much, to hear her moan out.

“I’m s-so sor-sorry,” she stuttered, his voice low and breathy as she scrambled to her feet.

“Did you lose a pet?”

She nodded her head, biting her lip nervously as her gaze looked around for this lost pet with open worry.

“Let’s see if we can charm them out,” Percival offered soothingly, trying to lure the little doe. He pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a careful charm to summon out anything hiding from them.

He expected a crup pup or something equally darling.

The niffler surprised him a bit.

The little beast fought the charm, trying to swim away as it floated to them. The woman hurried to scoop him from the air and curled the pest to her chest.

“Eugene, you mustn’t wander like this.” She scolded softly. “Not many people will react kindly to you.”

That was an understatement. Nifflers were utter nuisances, annoying little things that would rob you blind and were hard as hell to catch. This one sat in the woman’s firm hold, squirming a moment before sagging and giving up. Still, it looked fine to be caught, not remotely worried at all.

“T-thank you,” she whispered to Percival, never once looking him in the eye, head tipped down demurely. An old world sort then, a traditional type rather than the modern women. Percival supposed she was still a virgin.

It made him want her even more. He adored the sweet ones, all wide-eyed and trembling as he coaxed his way between their thighs. Percival was very good and loving and leaving them, taking care not to break delicate hearts and to help them find a nice husband afterwards. He had many dear friends who had no idea he had been inside their wives right before they met and married.

The pure ones were always the most delicious.

“I’ve just arrived here, I don’t think we’ve had a chance to be introduced, I’m Percival Graves.”

“Artemis,” a sudden voice called, scorn heavy in its tone as the poor girl started and Percival could see a flash of something frightful in her gaze as she whirled around. There was a gate at the back of the small yard and a man was standing there, frowning fiercely as he crossed the lawn towards them.

“What are you doing?” The man asked with open worry, taking the girl by the shoulders and looking her over. “Why would you leave the house?”

A sibling Percival would guess, the same copper hair on the man. Older and very much the protective brother type, Percival had met and been punched by a variety of them over the years.

“Eugene, he got out,” the girl whispered softly, chin almost trembling.

“That pest again? He should be locked up.”

This Artemis looked ready to cry now, hugging her pet close protectively. The big brother saw this and broke easily enough. He sighed out and cupped her face gently, tipping her head to look up at him.

“But I let you keep him, don’t I? I’ve let you keep a whole zoo in our poor house,” he teased and Artemis offered a relieved smile.

She really was lovely.

“Mr. Graves helped me find him,” she explained when the man looked back at Percival, suspicion heavy in his eyes.

“Percival Graves,” he offered out a hand and after a beat, the man took it and gave a too tight handshake.

“Theseus Scamander,” he replied steadily. A rising name in the Ministry, a decorated war hero and skilled wizard. Percival would do well to make friends with this man.

“I was just about to ask your sister if she needed to be walked home, but I’m sure she’ll be fine with you now.”

Theseus nodded, every inch a looming elder brother. His hand curled around Artemis’ shoulder possessively and he tugged her a touch closer to him.

“Thank you for helping her, we’ll be going now.”

Percival tipped his head in farewell and watched them leave.

It was a shame, Artemis was truly fetching to look at and Percival would have enjoyed her thoroughly. But he had no doubts that Theseus would never forgive him and could ruin a great deal for Percival. So this sweet little neighbour would be forbidden goods.

 

Percival woke to sobbing.

Soft little broken sounds and he sat up immediately, alert and on guard. He reached for his wand and slid from his bed to investigate. He had a small balcony off the bedroom, the door opened a bit to let in the cool night air.

Leaning against it and hidden in shadows he frowned to see Artemis on the balcony across his, quietly whimpering and trying to be quiet. There were spells to hide her away, to obscure the whole balcony from sight but Percival was in close proximity and a powerful wizard, he had a speciality in unravelling wards. Percival had been practising them before bed and it was clear he had unintentionally removed a privacy spell.

This poor woman was truly upset and Percival immediately wanted to help. The auror in him needing to make sure she was alright.

“Hush now,” Theseus voice carried as he stepped out on the balcony in nothing but sleeping pants. Feeling a sinking sensation in his gut, Percival watched from the shadows as he dropped a light kiss to Artemis’s bare shoulder. She was wearing a lacy cotton nightshirt with one shoulder hanging down and baring her skin. The material falling low on her knees but something that clung to her curves a bit as the wind moved it.

Percival had a sister and loved her dearly, they were affectionate as well. But kissing her shoulder would be odd, too much of a lover’s touch.

Theseus hands rested on his sister’s hips and nothing about it seemed proper at all.

“It…hurts, please…. please take it out,” Artemis whimpered, her knees shifting, thighs clenching.

Percival swallowed against the outrage and anger for her.

“We agreed an hour, you won’t learn anything if you aren’t punished. You took your blows well and you’ll manage through this as well. Come inside, I’ll comb your hair out for you to help distract from the ginger.”

Percival watched the woman nod and follow her brother, her steps clearly pained.

Once they were gone, Percival pulled his balcony door closed and turned on his lights, planning how he was going to help this poor girl and bring her incestuous brother to justice.

He spent the next day learning everything he could about Theseus Scamander.

The man was the picture of the tragic hero.

Orphaned young and taking care of his weak little sister, defending her from no maj prejudices and then both of them moving into the city with only the clothing on their backs. Theseus worked to feed and house them both and despite that struggle, when the war began he was one of the first to go against Ministry orders and help the fight. He returned a hero and had proven he was a powerful and intelligent wizard. He accepted a job in the Ministry not long after and was currently an auror with a bright shining future.

It would be hard to take him down, to crack open the mask he had created and reveal his true face.

Percival needed to know more.

So he laid out a trap.

He worked overtime, picking up hours in the evenings and weekends until he had three solid days of the week off to even it out. Then he went into a jewellery shop and picked out the shiniest thing he could find, something that just sparkled and served as the ultimate treasure for a certain thief.

Then he simply waited.

Theseus would work regular auror hours and it was a nice sunny day. Percival sat out on his small backyard deck and sipped coffee as he read about abuse and survivors of it.

It took roughly an hour for the bell to ding and the niffler to squawk out, caught in the trap. It was a harmless suspension spell, a clear magical ball encircling the beast and not letting it escape. The niffler’s first priority was stuffing the necklace into his pouch and then he began inspected the spell for weaknesses. The really were remarkable creatures when Percival thought about it, known for escaping the most airtight of spells. 

Percival floated the magical ball over to him to inspect the beast, setting his book facedown as he waited for the next phase of the plan.

“Eugene!” Artemis called out, voice worried as she forgot her manners and rushed across Percival’s lawn to inspect her pet.

“Perfectly fine, it’s a simple spell we use in America. It contains them without hurting them,” Percival explained easily. Artemis knelt on the edge of the deck, taking the ball from Percival without asking, gaze focused on making sure her creature was indeed unharmed. The niffler sniffed at her and then rolled on his back, settling in to wait it seemed, utterly unruffled to be caught.

“I’m sorry, he’s been wandering this month more than usual, I need to find new toys to keep him busy,” she explained, going meek once more. Percival made note that she seemed to find a backbone when it came to her pet.

“It’s all perfectly fine. We never did get out introductions, Artemis was it?”

She nodded demurely, fingers holding onto the magical ball as she sat back and set it on her lap protectively. Again her toes peeked out, covered in stockings but bare. Percival wondered if she ever left her home, if she was even allowed. The soft pink dress was darling on her and in the sunlight it was a bit sheer, showing a hint of creamy skin.

“Will you let him go?”

Percival blinked back to the task at hand, rebuking himself for letting his mind even wander to begin with.

“Of course, but I had hoped to speak with you,” Percival began and he noticed the way the woman shrank in on herself. Her face turning wary now as she peeked at him under her lashes, never meeting his gaze properly. This would be no easy feat for him to help, he realized suddenly. This woman wasn’t going to just confess everything at once. She might be too scared to do so.

“You seem like the sort to tell me what exactly this fellow is,” he confessed and pointed his wand so the little stick creature currently climbing through the flower bed floated over to them.

“Pickett!” Artemis squeaked, red-faced as she gathered her other pet in her careful hands.

“He’s been coming over and snooping through my house. I can’t seem to keep the door locked no matter what charm I use.”

“This is where you’ve been disappearing off too? Whatever for?” She asked the pet and it chattered at her a moment.

“He says you have the best bugs.”

Percival stared a moment, not sure if the girl could actually talk to the creature and if she did, he would fumigate his entire house twice over.

“Would he show me these bugs?” Percival requested, seeing the opportunity for what it was.

Artemis looked oh so suspicious but was baited into Percival’s house, her niffler in his ball under one arm as she held the bowtruckle in her free palm.

The bowtruckle led them to a plant Percival had never paid much attention too. The creature hopped onto it and began stuffing something too small for the eye to see into its mouth. 

“It’s actually very common I’ve read,” Artemis offered, seeming to sense Percival’s repugnance at bugs in his home. “Most plants have something on them, they aren’t any bother to us though, a bowtruckle would mind them for you if you wished.”

Percival hummed thoughtfully his gaze turning back to the woman. Her top button had come undone and something dark gleamed at the base of her throat. Without asking, Percival reached and pulled her collar open to reveal a series of dark love bites along the base of her neck.

Artemis slapped his hand away immediately, face going red as she hid the sexual marks. She stepped away and put distance between them. With fumbling fingers, she gathered up her bowtruckle, ignoring his squeaking protests.

“G-good day,” she whispered and Percival followed her as she made to leave far too soon.

“Wait please, I wish to speak with you, about your brother,” he told her and her step only hurried. “About the both of you committing incest,” he added hastily and her fingers froze on the doorknob.

“I heard you a few nights ago, on the balcony.”

Percival walked up behind her but tried not to crowd her. He waved a hand so the curtains on the glass door opened up and let in the sunlight, lighting the room and making it less ominous. The last thing he wanted was to scare her.

“I’m not out to hurt you, I only want to help you,” he promised her and Artemis turned halfway, one shoulder crowding against the door as she peered at him in confusion.

“H-Help me?”

“To stop this, to escape your brother and what he’s doing to you.”

Artemis stared at Percival, meeting his gaze finally as she scrutinized at him for a long moment.

“You think… you think Theseus is hurting me?”

“I heard him, he talked about hitting you.”

Artemis stared at Percival a moment more before looking away, her entire face scarlet and her ears turning as well.

“My b-brother is not doing anything I don’t consent too,” she confessed and Percival was the one starting now. His mouth opening and gaping a moment before he managed to close it.

“We have... our games and that’s all they are. Theseus would never truly harm me. He loves me.”

“Clearly,” Percival rasped, his mind trying to reorder itself but struggling badly.

Sex games.

These siblings were playing some sort of sordid sexual play between themselves. This pure and soft-seeming woman was having filthy sex with her own brother and admitting to consenting to it.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it,” she added, looking nervous again as she glanced at Percival guardedly. “No one would believe you.”

“I’m not sure I do,” Percival replied bluntly and that caught her off guard, making her blink and straighten up a bit.

“I’m not lying,” she said with a touch of insult.

Percival’s mind rearranged itself, sliding into place and everything changing to a new plan.

“You might be, to hide your brother hurting you,” he remarked, trying to sound neutral. “I’m just saying you might be. I’m an auror, I can’t help but want to make sure.”

“M-make sure?” Artemis looked oh so confused, not understanding at all. Percival could feel something sinful pouring into him as he looked at her. So naive and pure, he could see the appeal immediately. He could see why her own brother couldn't help but have a go at her.

Percival took the niffler and set the ball cage on a chair beside them, the bowtruckle was happy to escape, rushing back to the bug-infested tree. Artemis watched him do all this, her gaze wide but not entirely unknowing. Coy thing. 

“I’ll be quick,” Percival assured her and without hesitation, he spun her to face the door and abruptly lifted her skirts up. Artemis jolted but surprisingly didn’t stop his hands, placing her hands against the glass door and shivering but not stopping him. Percival had thought so, someone who admitted to such sex acts usually weren't against a bit of play.

“Just routine, to confirm,” he muttered to her, stepping in close. Her hair was fragrant with flowers and there was a faint perfume clinging to her as well.

Splendid little thing.

Percival gently eased the back of her skirt and her slip up all the way and found pretty white stocking on her feet up to her thighs, a garter belt over a corset holding them up with silk ties. Everything was lacy and white, nothing too scandalous, almost modest women underthings that were appealing in the own way. A pair of silky knickers were covering her rump and Percival began tugging at them.

Artemis moved then, fingers rushing to grab at his hands and stop him despite that fact it was clear she was enjoying the attention. Percival’s fingers spread wide, cupping her shapely rear and his other hand slipped around to her front like a snake.

“Just a quick peek,” he breathed and she trembled so prettily. Trying to deny him but also aroused as she pulled at his hands but leaned her back against his chest. 

Percival went very still.

He blinked again, his mind going sideways once more as his hand cupped what was very much a cock. Artemis sucked in a quivering breath, biting her, biting his, lower lip and looking bashful.

A man.

Percival was pressed up against a man dressed as a woman.

He had heard of it before but never like this, never to this level. As far as the world knew, Theseus had a younger sister and this young man lived as a woman.

“I was born like this, different,” Artemis croaked out.

Curiosity overpowered common sense and Percival dropped to his knees behind him/her.

He tucked her skirts into her corset and then yanked her knickers down around her thighs.

Artemis was just full of surprises.

Percival had heard of this before as well, of magical being born as both genders. Artemis had a little cock and right under it was the lips of a cunt. Both genders.

There was a shiny jewel pressed against her/his asshole Percival noted. A delicately carved rose that sat against his pucker. Percival’s fingers eased under it and felt it attached to something. Gently, he pulled and a long metal plug slid out. The end opening the pink rim so beautifully wide before it all came out. Artemis trembled terribly as she whimpered out, her poor hole clenching down on nothing. A breath after the plug, the white smear of semen began to ooze out.

“He’ll know now,” she moaned out, sounding half upset and half delighted.

Percival cupped her ass and spread her cheeks wide to watch the seed drip. It had to be her brother’s come, he’d left a load in her and plugged her up to keep it inside.

It was appalling, this twisted incestuous thing that Percival was witnessing.

His cock was throbbing so damn hard in his trousers.

So Percival leaned in and licked at the quivering pucker, earning a sudden cry. Artemis arched up but pressed her rump back onto his tongue. Percival swirled his tongue along her hole, tasting seed and not minding it at all. He laid with both genders and now he had a chance at some rare thing that was both in one.

He ate her out, pushing his tongue into that loose hole and pulling out more seed. He lapped over the hole teasingly and felt her twitch. Artemis was pressed against the glass door, moaning so lovely for him. Her resistance was gone now as Percival licked her pretty ass and pulled back, pressing two fingers in and feeling her ass take them easily. He opened them up and a gush of more come came rushing out, the pink hole and white seed looking rather obscenely fetching.

Theseus had to have come more than once in her, to put so much semen inside her. 

He sat back and pulled his hands away, taking her thighs and turning her around. Artemis went, flipping so her back was to the door and she was facing Percival. Kneeling before her, he lifted her dress up high and yanked her knickers down, carefully lifting a leg out of them so he could spread her thighs wide. Artemis was quivering but obeying as he guided her, well trained no doubt.

Percival ran a lazy line up her cock with his tongue, it was on the smaller side but she reacted with a loud cry, hips thrusting weakly as her fingers tangled in his hair immediately. Percival moved lower, tongue pressing between the folds of damp cunt. She was soaked and tasted ever so nice. Percival liked the taste of a cunt, the way each one was unique to their owner, a flavor utterly them.

He found her clit and teased it with the tip of his tongue, feather-light flicks and then a light nip to make her jolt.

The darling thing was mewling out, squirming on his mouth as he thoroughly explored this precious body as he pleased.

Percival sank two fingers into her ass again and languidly fucked her as he ate her cunt out, lapping and licking at it. He reached with his free hand to lift her one thigh onto his shoulder when her knees trembled badly enough to threaten to give out.

Her fingers still holding onto his head as she rocked her hips into his fingers and tongue.

Percival managed to lift the arm of the shoulder her thigh was on up and curl it up and over her leg. Fingers just reaching the tip of her cock. Percival ran his thumb over the head in a tease.

Artemis gasped out, voice going high with little desperate ‘uh, uh’, sounds as she came. Her ass clenched on his fingers and her cunt on his tongue, her cock pulsing and dripping seed that splattered against her dress and in his hair.

Panting a bit, she slumped against the door fully and Percival pulled himself back, helping her slide down into his waiting lap. He rubbed his slick soaked chin on the back of his forearm, a hand through his hair to wipe the semen off.

Artemis looked so dazed, lips full and red, she must have been biting them. Her cheeks were flushed with color and her gaze was somehow still shy.

Percival leaned in and kissed her, light and gentle to help ease her guards down a bit more. His hands moved her dress skirts, pushing them up and out of his way once more. Her thighs were spread on either side of him and Percival adjusted her so her pert ass sat right on his erection.

She arched away, shaking her head.

“I c-can’t Theseus is the only one who’s e-ever…If he ever found out about this…” she fumbled to explain and Percival’s cock ached that much harder to be in her. This unquietly virginal deviant, someone who was deprived and somehow still so pure.

“If we don’t, Theseus will know for certain,” he coaxed her. “You were filled with seed darling, and it’s all dripped out now.”

“Oh... he’ll be s-so upset. He’s so possessive, he c-can’t stand to share,” she explained and Percival rubbed her thighs soothingly. 

“We can fix this though,” Percival assured her and Artemis blinked teary eyes at him. God, she looked so divine, like some innocent goddess meant to be ruined.

“I’ll take you in the same place and fill you up, there’s no way your brother will know it’s not his.”

There was some perversely good about acknowledging it was her brother, that she was letting her own sibling fuck her. Percival had never cared for such things before, never thought about men in dresses or people of both genders before. But his mind was already locked on to Artemis in a fixated way. He would have her again, he was going to fuck this pretty doe for as long as he could, explore every last inch of her. 

“He w-won’t know?” Artemis asked softly and Percival nodded his head, raining kisses on her cheek and chin as he undid his trousers. She shifted on his lap but let him, peering down, curious despite herself.

“Have you never been with any other men?” He asked, knowing she hadn’t but wanting her to admit it again.

Artemis shook her head.

“Only T-Theseus. He worried I might be too… different for a husband.”

“I think you’re utterly lovely, such a rare treasure,” he reassured her, watching her face flush as he praised her honestly.

He took her pale, delicate looking, hand and led it to his bare cock.

Despite her innocence and hesitation, she took hold of him easily, her fingers stroking down with a smooth confidence. Clearly, she handled herself and her brother’s cock often. Again it was that duel sensation of a sweet virgin and knowing seducer. Her eyes locked on his erection, exploring it with an innocent edge even as her fingers teased the head with skill.

Percival pulled her thighs a bit closer and she went, her free hand reaching out to steady herself on his shoulder as she lifted up and guided his erection to her ass.

“Does he fuck your cunt?”

Artemis flushed and shook her head in negative.

“It would be wrong, for my brother to have me there. Only my backside.”

Percival groaned out, burying his face against her chest as he reached around her thigh and pressed his fingers to her own as she held onto his erection. He pushed his cockhead from her asshole to her cunt, rubbing against her lips teasingly.

“Have you ever been fucked here?”

“With t-toys,” she confessed softly. “Theseus keeps me in a c-chastity belt when he leaves but it’s un-uncomfortable so Pickett opens if for me some days. I…I explore myself there with things meant for my backside.”

Percival felt another heady thrill at knowing he was having something covertly guarded, usually locked away. 

“Let’s see how you like it,” he crooned at her, nudging upwards and curling an arm around her hips to ease her down. Artemis looked uncertain but let him lead her down, biting her lip as he sank into her cunt. The first real cock to ever have this part of her. Percival groaned out huskily as he took her virginity.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

She nodded her head, not looking uncomfortable at all as she sat down on his lap, his cock burying in the wet folds of her tight cunt. She felt wonderful and Percival breathed out as he lifted her hips and began to gently bounce her on his thighs.

Her arms curled around his shoulders, hugging him close, her chin against his neck as they began to leisurely fuck.

Percival meant to take his time and ease her into it. But it was Artemis who was moving faster right away, slapping herself down on to his prick.

“Harder please,” she requested so politely and Percival did his best to obey her.

He wrapped his arms around her and sat up abruptly, lifting her and turning them to set her down on her back on the rug. He loomed over her and lined back up, shoving into her cunt again. Her body jolted from the thrust, springing up and down on the rug as Artemis whimpered so sinfully. It was clear she liked being fucked in her cunt. Her thighs spread wide and her skirts around her hips as Percival began to properly pound her. He leaned down and kissed her mouth, wet and messy as he took her cunt.

Reaching down, he found her clit and rubbed at it, not too hard but just enough to make her thighs clench in reaction.

A breathless cry left her, her back arching as her legs wrapped around his hips and held on. He could feel her cunt gripping him and knew she was coming again. He fucked her through her orgasm, watching her eyes flutter as she released on his cock. When she relaxed in the aftermath her body was shoved with his thrust, jerking like a ragdoll as she utterly submitted and let him use her.

He yanked out with a groan, fingers fumbling to line up with her ass and ram in. Artemis whimpered, her ass opening up easily as Percival managed a few right vicious lunges and then growled out as he came. He shoved as far in as he could, pumping his load deep into her.

Once that high of getting off in a wet hot body receded and his brain began again, Percival looked around and found the discarded plug. Calling it to his hand with magic he carefully pulled out and sank the plug back into Artemis. She jumped a bit at the cold metal but relaxed as it sank deep into her once more.

Sitting back, he wiped back his sweat-damp hair, staring down at the gorgeous deviant spread out on his rug, her legs spread shamelessly, her cunt pink and puffy from being used, her ass red around the decorative plug. Her cute cock was softening, seed smearing her skirt from where she came again.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a lovelier thing,” he declared and she looked so genuinely pleased. Percival helped her sit up and she sat on a chair as he spelled her body clean and then pulled her knickers back up her body. With care, he cleaned her dress, taking the wrinkles and semen strains out of it.

“Y-You won’t tell anyone?” She asked and Percival nodded.

“On one condition,” he requested and she glanced at him. He was kneeling in front of her, holding up the fabric of her dress to make sure he hadn’t missed any spots.

“You’ll come visit me again?”

Her face flushed but she hid a smile behind her hand and nodded her head.

“It was lovely to spend an afternoon with you, miss Artemis Scamander,” he took her hand and pressed a polite kiss to her knuckles. Percival’s mind already planning all the ways he was going to have her, how he was going to strip her bare and pound her into his mattress as soon as he could.

“N-Newt,” she whispered delicately and Percival blinked in confusion.

“My real name is Newt. Theseus prefers Artemis but I was born Newton.”

Percival nodded, taking this important information he was being trusted with.

“Do you prefer being called a he?”

Artemis shook her head.

“I like being a woman, I’ve never minded, I chose to look this way. But I never liked giving up my name, my mum picked it for me. And I'm not not a man, I'm just...both.”

“Newt,” Percival said and she nodded her head.

“It really doesn’t suit me, does it?”

“I think it fits you perfectly, because it's yours.”

Newt smiled so sweetly at him for that.

 

Later that evening, Theseus came home.

The niffler had a nest in the house as Percival had suspected and he had placed the necklace within it. The spells on it were faint but powerful, made to be secret and unnoticeable.

Laying back on his bed, Percival jerked off as the listening spell let him hear Theseus fucking his sister. Newt whimpering so prettily with the wet slap of skin on skin. Theseus murmuring gentle words while he pounded her so ruthlessly.

They all finished and laid down for the night. Percival cleaning his seed off his hand as Newt got ready for bed and Theseus helped her. Every bit an overprotective brother with a far too strong hold on such a rare beauty. It was rude that he was trying to keep her all to himself. Such a prize and treasure like Newt.

“What did you do today?” Theseus asked lightly, not remotely worried about who might have been inside his sister.

“Oh nothing much, a bit of reading and some light walking around the garden, I was feeling a bit restless.”

“Worn out now?”

“Oh very much, twice over even.”

Percival smirked and planned. 

 


	8. Out With a (Gang)Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt knows it’s because of him.
> 
> They want him.
> 
> Because he’s a nymph.
> 
> Newt’s mama used to caution him, that males would lose their sense around him. That he’s very being drew out something lustful in them. It could be a good thing, a very good thing, she would say. Or it could be very bad. Newt had to be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so amused by the pun of the title. 
> 
> **Kink tags: Satyrs, Nymphs, Virginity, Trading Sex, Gangbang, Rough Oral Sex, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Comeplay, Rough Sex, Possessive Behavior, Size Kink, Size Queen Newt, Credence/Newt, Grindelwald/Newt, Grindelwald/Credence.**

 

Newt knows everything that could go wrong for them, has done so.

The first snow is beginning to fall in the forest they are passing through and Theseus is ill. He insists he’s perfectly fine but Newt can see the way he struggles to breathe, the way sweat trickles down his brow all the time. His steps are heavy and slow moving, his brother is ill and trying to fight it.

They’ve been walking for so long, over three full seasons have come and gone and they are still searching. There is no new home to be found though. Everywhere they go, someone is already there. They want things, make demands that Theseus refuses. A few times they have been attacked even.

Newt knows it’s because of him.

They want him.

Because he’s a nymph.

Newt’s mama used to caution him, that males would lose their sense around him. That he’s very being drew out something lustful in them. It could be a good thing, a very good thing, she would say. Or it could be very bad. Newt had to be careful.

But Theseus is sick and the snow is beginning. Each time prior they found somewhere to stay, some caves or even on the edge of a human village, taking food as they needed. Newt stayed hidden usually but he was very good at sneaking. Theseus’ hooves were too loud sometimes and Newt could usually move unseen when he wanted, light on his feet in a way satyrs couldn’t be. When he was seen, he was always chased, always hunted down. Males with a fixation in their eyes, a need to possess him. Newt had to be quiet.

Newt worried over those looks, what they would do if they ever caught him.

Whatever terrible thing they wanted to do, it couldn’t be worse than watching Theseus die.

So when they took shelter in a shallow cave beside a stream, Newt resolved himself. Theseus was resting, dragging in ragged breathes that sounded like they hurt.

Newt prayed to the forest goddess for his brother to survive.

He kissed his brow and left the cave, looking around and waiting for his scent to carry in the air. He noticed the Fwooper in the trees, watching him. Newt smiled and waved at the little creature. He had some nuts and seeds at the bottom of his satchel. Not enough for him but a hearty meal for the bird. He piled it on a rock and smiled sweetly at the beast before heading out a bit more.

The forest was scented, marked by satyrs, more than one.

satyrs could be very dangerous in groups, they felt the call to mate stronger than others. But Theseus was a satyr and had always been able to control himself. Perhaps they would be sensible.

Newt didn’t have to go far, kneeling by the stream to drink the cool water. The rustle of the leaves alerted him and he sat back, looking up at the satyr approaching him.

“Hello,” he greeted smoothly, seeming calm and poised but his gaze was very intent on Newt.

“Hullo,” he answered, shifting uncomfortably, feeling that urge to spring up and run away.

“Are you lost little dear?”

Newt shook his head in negative, biting his lip in nervous fear.

“We lost our home,” he explained softly. “Humans turned it into a battleground and the death poisoned the pure earth. We had to leave.”

The satyr nodded his head, making understanding sounds as he slowly circled around Newt, taking in every inch of him.

“That’s very unfortunate. I imagine you would find a new home quickly, so lovely as you are. Many herds and groups welcome nymphs.”

“My brother is a satyr. He… he said they wanted bad things and refused them.”

“Ah. Where is this brother?” The satyr looked around now, head raised high to scan the area. He was tall and broad, his fur dark greys and blacks. His skin was tanned and muscled, a male in his prime. His hair was dark with more grey streaks and dark powerful horns sat atop his head. They gleamed with few marks on them, he either fought rarely or he always won. Newt had the distinct impression it was a bit of both. He was watching Newt again, his eyes very clever but with a dark edge.

Dangerous.

“He’s resting,” he confessed, careful not to say where. “We need somewhere to stay… we need to find winter shelter.”

The satyr hummed in agreement, slinking closer to Newt. When he reached out, Newt wanted to shy but he made himself stay. Calloused hands tipped his chin up and a thumb rubbed over his bottom lip.

It felt strange, a shiver crawling through Newt, into his belly oddly.

The satyr leaned over him, nosing his hair, scenting Newt heavily. No one had been this close before, only Theseus. Not since before they had a home and Newt would sit with the other nymphs. It felt different now, the way this stranger touched him.

“Pure. I see. Your brother kept you pure. A nymph without another’s scent.”

“Theseus scents me,” Newt protested. 

“Not as a proper male,” came the chuckle, the hand on his chin moved down, closing on Newt’s neck. It began to squeeze and Newt gasped in a pained breath. He reached up and pulled at the hand hurting him but his delicate fingers didn’t seem to bother the satyr at all. 

“Pretty thing. Pretty dumb thing. I could choke you to death right here,” the satyr mused lightly, watching Newt as tears burned in his eyes and he gasped for air.

“But you’d be better as a broodmare, something wet and hot to fuck.”

The fwooper on the tree watching them puffed up and Newt immediately slapped his hands over his ears. The satyr frowned at him before he jerked and grabbed as his own ears in pain. The fwooper’s song could drive one mad, it was a sharp painful thing. Newt winced but took the moment to spring up and run away. The satyr followed and he knew this forest better than Newt. But nymphs were far faster than any other creature. He slipped through the forest with ease, the space between him and the satyr beginning to widen.

Newt nearly collided with the other one, he seemed to appear out of nowhere. Newt jumped to the side but a third satyr was there as well. Panicked he tried to stop and slipped, falling hard and gasping for breath.

The first arrived and then Newt was surrounded, caught.

“That’s not a deer,” the third satyr said nervously, his fur was stark black and he looked young compared to the others. The second male was almost identical to the first one, a severe face with a frown. But his gaze lacked the same cruel edge. He looked down at Newt, watching him shiver and fight sobs. He wasn’t unmoved by Newt’s fear. He had a spear in his hand but made a show of burying the pointed end in the earth, a sign of no ill meaning.

“What have you done, Grindelwald?” He growled at the first satyr Newt had met.

 

Newt was led to a large cave where a fourth satyr was waiting, minding the fire and stirring a pot filled with something that smelt truly delicious.

“Hello, a new face,” the stout satyr greeted with open cheer. He had a lightness about him, not a warrior or hunter. His smile put Newt at ease a tiny bit and he managed to weakly return it.

“You look cold, come sit by the fire,” he encouraged, waving his hand for Newt to come and he did so. He glanced at the others, the cruel satyr, Grindelwald, stayed by the mouth of the cave watching Newt intently. The other one was putting his spear away just inside and the younger was trailing after him.

“Here, would you like something to eat?” the kind one asked. He took up a wood bowl and scooped a hefty amount of the steaming stew out. When he offered it to Newt, the nymph felt his lip tremble in gratefulness. It had been a long time since he’d had something so fine to eat. His stomach rumbled as he sipped at it, the taste utterly delightful. He said so too and the satyr smiled proudly.

“I do try, I think it’s the reason they keep me around, decent cooking,” he offered easily, nodding to the others in good nature.

Newt nearly jumped when something heavy dropped on his shoulders. A warm fur chased the cold seeping into his skin. Nymph normally didn’t feel the cold as bad but fear and exhaustion had made Newt’s immunities weak.

“Thank you,” he whispered, glancing up at the satyr who gave it to him. It was the one who looked like the cruel one. He watched Newt before nodding his head. Once he settled beside the fire, the others came and all sat down to eat. Newt quietly sipped his stew, aware they were all watching him with a bubbling curiosity.

“Oh!” the kind one seemed to startle a moment. “I forgot to introduce myself. How rude. My name is Jacob,” he offered with a smile and Newt felt grateful all over again for him. His open ease was all that was keeping Newt from trying to bolt away. He had to be strong. For Theseus.

“You met the rest, Grindelwald here, young Credence and our esteemed leader, Percival.”

Newt glanced at Percival, his mind turning over the notion of this one leading. He would be the one to ask for help then, to try and barter.

“My name is Newt,” he replied gently.

“Newt, it doesn’t suit, something softer for such a sweet thing,” Grindelwald cooed at him and Newt wrinkled his nose, knowing the satyr was trouble.

“Stop scaring him,” Percival growled, an authority in his tone as he fixed a glare on the other satyr. Grindelwald closed his mouth but wore a satisfied smirk.

“Newt,” Percival seemed to test the name on his tongue, looking over at Newt. “Why have you come into our territory?”

“Me and my brother…” Newt hesitated, glancing at the mean one again. What if his words brought the same reaction?

“He’s looking for a new home, a satyr brother and him, seeking a new herd to join,” Grindelwald announced. He was watching Newt, looking smug again.

“He’s untouched and willing to mate, for a safe home for him and his dear brother, aren’t you darling?”

Newt squirmed but couldn’t deny the claim. It was what they all wanted from him, all these males with their lustful gazes. They wanted Newt to mate with, to have him until their desires were sated.

“A mate?” Credence’s soft voice piped up. “It would mean we could avoid the spring travel.” The words didn’t make sense to Newt but they seemed important, Percival tipping his head in consideration. Like it meant something to not travel in the spring.

“No,” he finally rasped and Newt’s heart plummeted. “He’s too young.”

Grindelwald scoffed. “He’s young but not that young. He’d have been mating by now if he had a proper family. His scent wouldn’t call if he was still too young.”

He spoke with a knowing air and the others didn’t refute him. Perhaps he was their Knower. Newt’s old home had a Knower, a very old and wise Satyr who offered advise. He had been the one to tell them they had to move on.

“I’m…Theseus, my brother, said I was of age now. That we had to be more careful.” Newt made himself say, they needed a home, at the very least somewhere to stay for the winter. Newt would offer whatever he needed to keep his brother safe. Theseus would not be able to survive a winter in harsh conditions so ill, not without help.

“Careful?” Jacob was the one to ask.

“He’s young and gorgeous, he smells sweet and pure. I imagine plenty have tried to have a go at him recently.”

Newt ducked his head in humiliation.

“It was different, our home was very large and there were many other nymphs,” he tried to explain. No one had ever wanted him with the same fervour those around him did now. He had just been another nymph. But he had been young then, too young for mating.

“Across the old mountains, they say nymphs are common. Here they are very rare and guarded. Kept in forests with protectors. You’re lucky you haven’t been raped yet.”

“Grindelwald,” Percival snapped but the satyr shrugged, uncaring for the reprimand.

“It’s the truth. How did you manage to avoid it?”

“Theseus is strong,” Newt replied. They had been chased and fought before but Theseus has always won. “I know how to fight and if I ask, the forest will help me.”

Grindelwald made an intrigued noise.

“Where is this Theseus?” Percival pressed and Newt faltered. They could kill his brother and cage Newt, could do terrible things to them both. But there was no real choice anymore. Theseus was sick and the snow had begun.

Looking at him, at this leader, Newt decided to trust Percival. His eyes weren’t cruel and satyrs didn’t bother to hide such things. His intentions felt good, Newt couldn't feel any darkness inside him.

 

They followed Newt to Theseus. His brother didn’t wake when they arrived, his fever burning his skin. Grindelwald was the one to look at him, to frown at his sweat-slicked skin and listen to his too fast heart.

Newt shifted anxiously as the satyr stood in a group and deliberated on what to do.

Theseus was very ill and might not survive. They had some healing supplies but if they used them and someone fell sick during the winter it could kill them all. It made heartbreaking sense, why risk their lives for strangers, for a satyr they didn’t know. Newt had heard satyr outside family bonds were very wary of each other. Theseus had never met another satyr he liked since they begun to travel.

Using the sleeve of his tunic, Newt wiped Theseus brow and prayed to the forest goddess for mercy.

“It’s worth the risk,” Grindelwald surprised Newt by saying. “Another strong satyr would be a boon but the nymph is worth the risk. We leave the land exposed when we travel for spring. A nymph would mean we wouldn’t have too. He could carry for us as well eventually. That would be worth a winter illness. If truly pressed, someone could brave the winter to fetch more medicine. Someone could make a trip when the snow is mild even.”

Newt looked up at the group. Jacob seemed to pity Newt and spoke in his favour. Credence had remained silent and Percival was sceptical of the risk. His gaze met Newt’s and the nymph opened his mouth to beg if need be.

“Fine,” Percival huffed before he could and the rest of them seemed to shift in an unspoken agreement. “We need to move him, the stream’s cold will seep into his bones and kill him.”

They brought a large fur and used it to carry Theseus to their cave. Newt’s brother remained sleeping but looked better to be in a warm cave, settled on a fur. Grindelwald dug through a little box at the furthest point of the cave, producing little vials of a golden liquid.

“If this can’t bring him back, nothing will,” he told Newt. There was no sympathy about him, he didn’t seem to care if Theseus lived or not. But he was helping and that was what mattered.

They sat Theseus up and made him drink, coaxing water and broth down as well.

“Time will tell now,” Grindelwald announced and walked off to help himself to more stew. Newt brushed his brother’s hair from his brow and offered a small hope for him to wake and recover quickly.

Darkness began to fall and the fire lit and warmed the cave. The mouth was not large and it kept the wind out. The satyrs had to duck to come and go but the warmth stayed in the cave. There was a fire hole at the top of the cave, to let out the smoke. The cave itself was shaped like a berry, rounded out. There were three flat layers to the ground, a step down each one, deeper into the earth. The fire pit was in the middle, with room to sit beside it. There were furs on the second to sleep with. The third held their belongings, spears and weapons, things for everyday life, cooking and cleaning objects. It was an established home, they had to have been here for many years already. It could be a new home for Newt and Theseus.

Newt slept curled up with Theseus, pressing close under a fur to chase the lingering cold away. He woke at each sound, blinking awake to find Grindelwald sitting up and watching him. The others were sleeping together, grouped close for body heat.

Of all of them, Grindelwald seemed the most dangerous. He was a knowing sort but also a cruel kind. Still, his harshness would be worth Theseus living. Newt was certain as well that Percival would not let the other male run out of control. He seemed the type that would never stand for such a thing. Newt was safe with them for now.

 

They settled into an uneasy rhythm.

They woke each morning and drank and ate their fill. Then Percival, Credence, and Grindelwald would go out hunting and forge for the day. They needed fresh meat and their supplies for winter would need to be built upon if they were to feed two more now.

Jacob stayed with Newt and Theseus.

He was very kind and Newt came to like him right away. Jacob had Newt help him cook and prepare foods. Learning to chop meat and how to cook it properly.

“Nymphs don’t need meat so I don’t know much about it. Theseus would cook it himself, usually rabbit.”

“Satyrs are hunters; we can’t help it. See a bunny and think it’ll be tasty. Nymphs get on with creatures though don’t they?”

Newt nodded, focusing on slicing the potato into little pieces to add to the pot. The stew was the norm, with water and food combined. Warmed to chase the cold from their bones. Jacob was good at making it taste different each time though.

“I’ve always found it easy to speak with creatures and to live with them. I’ve never felt aggressive. In the spring, Theseus gets very moody and picks fights, he says he can’t help it but I never understood. But I can remember satyrs used to fight back home sometimes. In the spring as well. Knocking horns, I think it was called.”

“A little bit of horn locking huh? When satyrs can’t find mates they usually fight. The winner gets to mate on the loser and get rid of the urge.”

“The urge to mate?”

Jacob nodded. He didn’t seem bothered to talk about such things. Theseus had always gotten uncomfortable and avoided answering Newt’s questions.

“Spring fever and all that. It’s why we travel to the valley. There’s a goddess that lives in the woods and protects it. Lots of nymphs live with her and so males travel there to mate and try to coax nymphs or fauns to return to their herds with them.”

Newt blinked, taking in the information.

“You could go there; Theseus wouldn’t be allowed but… if things go bad or something… the forest goddess would welcome you.” Jacob looked a touch weary as he said it, his gaze glancing to the cave opening wearily.

Newt felt his heart warm a bit, that the satyr would offer him such knowledge. He looked to Theseus and knew as long as his brother lived, he would stay.

“None of you have coaxed anyone to come live with you?”

Jacob sighed and shook his head.

“There’s this one nymph, a really pretty one, sweet hearted and kind. Just… the best.” He huffed with open affection. “We’ve talked over the years and last spring she let me visit her but she has a sister and won’t leave her. Some satyrs go settle in the fields around the forest, to be with a nymph who won’t leave. Percival said if Queenie, that’s her name, asked me to stay I should. But I would feel bad,” Jacob shook his head again, obviously indecisive.

“How come,” Newt prompted curiously. He had managed to prepare the potatoes and was now wondering how to cut the round vegetable that he didn’t recognize. A root one of some kind. 

“Well, for a long time I was on my own, my herd had too many males and so some had to leave. I’m no hunter so I didn’t offer much. Not that I blame them. Off I went. Met Percival when it was just him. There used to be a large herd here but sickness came. Percival was the only one to stay after. He’s got a few cousins in the valley.”

“Oh,” Newt looked over at Theseus, suddenly seeing the situation differently. They truly were very lucky that Percival had allowed them to stay.

“He’s the good sort, if he had decided you had to leave, he’d have sent you to the valley to find help there. S’why I like him. He took me in, knowing I wasn’t no mighty hunter. Credence too. A demon or something bad got hold of him and he was a bit…” Jacob paused, looking for the word.

“…Off I suppose. Seeing things that weren’t there and the like. His herd made him leave and no one would have him. Percival let him come with us though, he knew Credence just needed somewhere to feel safe. He’s been following after Percival ever since.”

Newt had noticed the younger satyr followed Percival closely.

“And Grindelwald?”

“He’s an odd duck. But he knows lots. Percival is a good leader but he doesn’t know like Grindelwald knows. He can be mean, but he’s strong and helpful when he wants to be.”

“Did he come from a too big herd like you?”

Jacob seemed to think on it. Without a word, he took over the cutting, showing Newt how to slice up the vegetable before letting him take it over once more. No being mean that Newt had been doing it wrong. 

“I don’t right know honestly. I think he did something foolish and was sent away for it. He came here and not long after he started looking like Percival.”

Newt made a surprised sound.

“I thought they were brothers or related in some way.”

Jacob shook his head. “Grindelwald had light hair and his own face, light fur as well. His horns were a white, I’ve never seen white horns before. His eyes were different colors too,” he added with a knowing look at Newt.

All beings were born with magic, but to have eyes that were different colors was a signifier of great power. To hold a form not his own all the time was another sign that the satyr was strong in magic.

“Why does he look like Percival?”

“To be a pain mostly. But it is useful when strangers come, to see the exact same satyr confuses them right away. That’s why I think Percival lets him do it.”

Newt chewed his lip as he focused, cutting carefully to mimic Jacob’s work.

“It can be frustrating, not knowing who is who,” Jacob added.

“I can tell the difference,” Newt supplied. “True natures cannot be hidden from nymphs. We always know one’s true intentions.”

The click of hooves made him look up as Percival ducked into the cave, a long wood pole on his shoulder with a deer hanging off of it. Grindelwald was carrying the other end, Credence trailing after them.

It was clear Grindelwald had intentions different from the rest, but for his dark nature, there was no true ill will towards Newt.

 

He was the one to make sexual advances first though.

 

They hadn’t really talked it through but it was assumed Newt would mate with the satyrs at some point. He waited on edge for the first nights, waiting for someone to reach out for him. But no one did.

Newt had thought Percival would be the first.

But he seemed to treat Newt the same as the others. Sometimes Newt caught him looking but they all looked at Newt. At his pale legs and bare feet. His tunic covered down to mid-thighs and went all the way up to his collarbone. There were sleeves a bit too long that Newt had sewn on in preparation for winter. Newt had thought to find leggings but no one mentioned it, so he left it be. He was warm in the cave and only left to relieve himself as winter set in. So he didn’t mind his bare legs but was aware everyone looked at them. Even Jacob would peer and then look away embarrassed.

Newt was there to mate with them. He wasn’t eager to do it…but he was a bit curious. He had never mated before but he had seen it done many times growing up. Sex seemed like a pleasurable thing, like it felt good. Newt wondered if it would feel like that for him.

So he waited, watching all the satyrs watch him, knowing eventually something would happen.

 

It surprised Newt, when something finally did happen.

 

It had been almost a full moon turn. Theseus hadn’t woken but he was getting better, drinking broth and seeming to improve a bit more each day. Muttering a bit and trying to wake up.

Newt was getting used to the group he was with, learning about them slowly. Credence was talking to him more, soft whispers about his day and curious questions about Newt’s old home and his travels. They talked when they ate and before they slept. Newt still slept beside Theseus for warmth and Credence seemed to be drifting closer to them so they could talk without disturbing the others.

Grindelwald seemed intent on their growing bond for some reason. Watching them together and seeming pleased.

Newt learned why when he left one evening to relieve himself. The cave was thoroughly scent marked by the others, making it clear multiple satyrs lived there. Newt picked a corner to use and often his scent was marked over by the others, hiding that he was there. There was a proper latrine dug out as well.

Newt just needed a piss so he went around the side of the cave, he relieved himself and hurried back, stopping short when he saw them a few feet from the cave entrance.

Credence was down on his knees before Grindelwald. The older male was thrusting into his mouth. Credence was sucking Grindelwald. Newt had seen it before in his years but for some reason, he hadn’t expected to see Credence doing it.

“Oh, hello dear,” Grindelwald cooed. Credence’s eyes looked to Newt and he tried to pull off but Grindelwald curled a rough hand in his dark hair and held him there. He shoved harshly a few times and Credence seemed to sink back into what he was doing, returning his focus.

“You seem surprised, how did you think we got by? Little Credence doesn’t like getting fucked but he’ll suck us off.”

Newt glanced back at the cave door, thinking of the other two satyrs and unable to see them doing… this.

“Jacob likes to pretend it’s all for his pretty nymph in the valley but he seeks Credence out, so does Percy, we all ride his face. Since you’ve come it’s like we're pretending we don’t. Credence used to crawl around every night and use his mouth. It’s a good one,” he broke off with a grunt. His other hand came up and Newt watched him thrust into Credence’s mouth very roughly.

Credence didn’t fight him either. He let him do it. His lips trying to seal as spit ran down his chin. Grindelwald’s cock was thick and a dark red color. They all wore loincloths to cover themselves but Newt had seen glimpses. This was different, the male on display as Credence sucked him.

Grindelwald made a noise deep in his throat and he pulled Credence’s mouth close, holding him down. The male’s hips jerked in tight motions and Newt just knew he was releasing. Credence swallowed audibly and Newt’s face burned red.

He should go back, should have gone already. But there he stood, watching. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the cock on display. From Credence’s lips stretched or the saliva hanging down his chin. It was messy but something about it made Newt squirm.

Credence yanked away suddenly and Grindelwald let him. He gasped in deep breathes as the other satyr leaned against the stone cliff. Credence leaned back in and rubbed his cheek on Grindelwald cock, smearing the spit there. It was clear he liked it, liked what he had done.

Grindelwald stood straight abruptly and walked towards Newt.

For some reason, Newt thought he meant to walk by him, he looked down shyly.

The male surprised him when he stopped and turned just behind Newt. A sudden hand was cupping his backside, sliding between his legs before Newt could close them.

“You reek darling, utterly stink,” Grindelwald said it like a compliment.

“Percival said not too,” Credence warned unsurely, watching them. His voice was hoarse from the rough use he had endured. The hands touching Newt moved between his thighs and he jerked, reaching back to grab at Grindelwald’s wrists in alarm. 

“Percy said not to fuck him. I won’t do that. Just show him a bit,” he reassured. His hand kept pushing and Newt knew if he shoved hard enough, he could push the bigger male off. But his fingers were… it didn’t feel bad.

Newt bit his lips and he let his hands relax their grip on Grindelwald’s arms.

“See, he doesn’t mind. He’s untouched, he doesn’t even know he can feel good I bet,” the satyr chuckled.

“Come here, he’s got a cock you can suck but I’ve heard nymphs like being licked. Have you ever even tasted a nymph Credence? I’ve heard it’s the finest taste a satyr can be blessed to experience.”

Credence looked at Newt, peering at him for guidance. Newt couldn’t say it but Credence seemed to read something in his gaze because he listened. He got up and came towards them. The thick line of his cock was pressed against his loincloth, settled between his fur covered thighs.

It caught Newt off guard, how much he wanted to see it.

Credence knelt before Newt and Grindelwald lifted his tunic up to expose him. His cock was nothing like theirs, it’s was small and delicate looking in comparison.

Credence’s mouth was hot and the wetness of it startled Newt. He cried out and Grindelwald’s hand closed over his mouth as he hushed Newt. The satyr pressed up against Newt’s back, licking at his neck. It felt good, everything felt very good. Grindelwald tongue on his skin, his hands on Newt’s mouth and hip. Credence’s hands on his thighs and his mouth on Newt’s cock.  

“Go lower, he’s more sensitive down there.”

Grindelwald kept a hand on Newt’s mouth still but the other hand he wrapped around Newt’s middle. He was a nymph and so by nature smaller than them both, his weight was nothing to them. So the satyr lifted Newt's feet from the dirt easily. Credence pressed lower, he was licking Newt’s thighs and it made his skin tingle. The spit made the air colder there and he felt too sensitive.

His thighs ended up on Credence’s shoulders, spread out as he tentatively licked at Newt’s hole.

Newt jerked, crying out into Grindelwald’s hand.

His own fingers tangled in Credence’s hair but he didn’t pull him back. That seemed to push Credence on because he licked at him again, his hot wet tongue rubbing Newt in his most intimate place. The touch, the hot wet feel made Newt shiver helplessly. He could feel the puffs of hot breath on his skin, making everything feel over-aware. his fingers ran along Credence's horns, they seemed placed perfectly for him to hold on to them as the satyr ate him out. 

Newt was making noises that he never had before and he couldn't stop them all. His hips were moving and his fingers were pulling at Credence’s horns. Newt couldn’t stop himself, everything felt unimportant in comparison to the heat in his belly. 

“That’s it sweetling, look at you, moaning for it already. Fuck, you're going to be a delight to pound. I bet you’ll love it too, won’t be able to do anything but love it.” Grindelwald muttered in Newt’s ear, his sharp teeth nipping the edge and then licking over it, as if marking him.

“Percival thinks you’re too young and too innocent. He doesn’t understand just how bad you want it. How eager you are, staring at us, waiting for the first move, for your first fuck.”

Newt’s hips bucked harder, Credence was pressing in, his tongue sinking in a bit. Newt’s thighs spread as wide as they could. Grindelwald dropped his hand from Newt’s mouth to steady him, to hold Newt’s legs wide open for Credence. The satyr seemed to truly like what he was doing, pressing his face in close and lapping enthusiastically.

“You thought seed tasted good, I bet you haven’t tasted anything as good as you are right now,” Grindelwald teased Credence.

“Try slipping a finger into him, he’s made to be taken.”

Credence obeyed, a thick blunt fingertip pressing along with his tongue. His other hand cupped Newt’s backside, squeezing on his skin and rubbing it with his fingers. Satyrs were fur from the waist down so Newt supposed a smooth-skinned body was new to him.

He could feel a finger pushing into him, pushing one way to open him as the tongue pulled in the other.

Newt cried out, startling and loud in the night. His body jerked and he came with a sob. His fingers gripping Credence's horns tightly as he shoved onto his face, rocking into the pleasure, consumed by it.

He sobbed and whined at how amazing it felt, like nothing before.

Everything was throbbing so brightly, pleasure rushing through his entire body and snapping him up whole.

Newt couldn’t imagine anything better. He had never known this was how sex was, Theseus had made it sound less appealing. Not like this.

Not so utterly wonderful.

Grindelwald was moving, once the heat of his chest wasn’t against Newt’s back he missed it. The stone was cold as he leaned against it and slid down, his legs not holding him up. Credence pulled back as Newt sank down. The satyr’s face was a mess, covered in slick and his eyes looked wild and intent as he licked his lips eagerly. He looked on the verge of something, it was trembling through his body. They were both panting for breath, red-faced and excited. Newt’s backside was on the ground, his thighs spread on either side of Credence’s kneeling body now. The satyr was panting a touch, his cock full and pressing against the loincloth that covered it.

Newt trembled but wondered, wondered what it would feel like in him.

“Huh,” Jacob’s voice made him start. He stood at the cave opening watching them, Percival was with him. They had come to see why Newt had cried out. Newt shivered harder at the way Percival was looking at him. Jacob looked flustered and a bit amused but Percival was watching him with something so hungry it made Newt’s body stir.

Grindelwald was nowhere to be seen.

“Come inside,” Percival finally commanded and returned into the cave.

Credence helped Newt stand, his legs still felt wobbly. He glanced at the younger satyr and Credence looked away, his face red with a sudden shyness. Impulsively, Newt leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” his whispered and Credence turned redder but smiled and nodded his head.

They went back into the cave, Jacob still making dinner while Percival sharpened a knife. Theseus remained asleep.

Credence settled on the ground, sitting and trying to ignore his erection. Newt checked on Theseus, making sure he was covered and not too cold or too warm. He glanced at Credence and noticed the satyr wiping a finger over his chin and then licking it clean.

Newt’s thighs felt messy as well, smeared with slick and saliva. When he looked, Percival was watching him, his gaze filled with clear lust. But he stayed where he was, eventually going back to his work.

So Newt settled on the blanket beside Theseus and rested.

 

“It’s very rude you know,” Grindelwald told him the next day. They were down by the stream, bathing on a warm day. Credence and Percival washing quickly in the cold water. Newt tried not to stare too much. Their dark fur hid their bodies but he could see the length of them, both very well endowed, even when they were soft. All satyrs were though.

“Rude?” Newt turned his gaze away from them, he had always been told staring was a compliment. It showed interest.

“Not returning the favor, Credence licked you out but you never helped him,” Grindelwald explained. They were on the snowy bank, both already clean. Newt had dipped in the water with his tunic, washing it along with his body. It clung to his skin now but nymphs weren’t as bothered by the cold weather as others so he didn’t mind the light chill. The more he ate large hearty meals and slept the night through the more his power returned to him. Newt could sense all the creatures around them and he felt a connection with the forest too. The longer he stayed the deeper he would bond. 

“Percival called us back in.”

“So? Do you think you’ll do everything outside? That’s just asking for trouble, asking to be attacked. Percival told you to go into the safety of the cave, not to stop. Once you fell asleep, he had Credence suck him off. He licked his face clean too, to taste you.”

Newt’s face heated up and Percival seemed to sense Grindelwald was stirring up trouble. He came to the bank and the other satyr left Newt be, walking off. Newt was careful not to stare at Percival’s nude body. Satyrs only wore loincloths, their upper bodies always bared and their long fur covered legs needing no protection. Theseus had said once the only reason they wore anything was to protect their cocks from damage during fights.

“Is he bothering you?”

Newt blinked at Percival, surprised by the genuine worry in his tone.

“N-no, he just likes to try to startle me, I think.”

“He could irritate a tree, given enough time,” Percival grumbled and Newt smiled. “If he bothers you, tell me. He likes to give Credence a hard time as well. But if no one tells me, I can’t do anything.”

Newt nodded.

“He really isn’t that bad, he’s a bit rough but he doesn’t have ill intentions, not really.”

 

Credence and Newt walked back to the cave side by side, Percival a bit head of them, scanning the area. They patrolled their territory during the day, Newt learned, to prevent interlopers. With a nymph with them now, Percival was pushing for them all to be more vigilant. The snow wasn’t too deep so they could walk without too much fuss. Newt didn’t sink into the snow like the Satyrs did, his nymph nature letting him leave the barest hints of a footprint. It would be very easy to outrun a beast in the deep snow.

“I could,” Credence breathed quietly, glancing at Newt. “I could…again if you wanted.”

Newt blinked and nearly stumbled in the snow, feeling his face warm, his insides felt warm too, stirring in his belly.

“I liked it, doing it.” the satyr added lowly. He looked unsure, he always did though, shy and anxious. Newt found a kinship with him, he often felt the same way even before they left their home. Newt was always a bit odd and people would comment on it, some without cruel intent, others with it. Credence had been forced from his herd for something he hadn’t even done and turned away by many. Just like Newt and Theseus had.

“I… liked it too,” Newt admitted and Credence glanced at him, both sharing embarrassed smiles.

“Grindelwald… he said after I went to sleep…” Newt hesitated, glancing at Percival. He walked on, showing no sign of hearing them whispering.

Credence glanced at the other satyr ahead of them and then nodded his head. He seemed to understand the question Newt was asking, if Credence had truly sucked him off.

“He thinks you need more time; he doesn’t want… he said he doesn’t want you to feel like you have too. Just to protect your brother.”

Newt glanced at the satyr walked ahead again, feeling his chest warm a bit in a different way at the considerate thoughtfulness. It was odd, Percival and Grindelwald were nearly identical but Newt found himself more drawn to Percival. The satyr had such nice dark horns and dark fur with grey streaks. It was sign of his power, that his horns weren’t cracked or damaged from fights, he won them often then. The grey was another sign of strength, the older males would get bits of grey and to live that long without serious injury showed intellect. Satyrs did like to fight after all, they were aggressive beasts at their very base. But more than mere physical attraction, Newt knew he was soft on the leader of this group. Percival kept showing endearing signs of a kindness Newt hadn’t seen in many since he and Theseus had to travel. It endeared him to the male quite a bit.

“He is a good satyr,” Credence offered and Newt blinked, flushing a bit to be caught staring at Percival’s back. Credence didn’t seem offended with Newt’s interest, if anything he seemed happy and a bit proud.

“Percival took me in when no one else, he… helped me when I really needed someone to help.” Credence admitted softly and Newt smiled.

“I admire him,” he added and that much was very obvious to Newt.

He glanced up at the male leading them and wondered what it would feel like to mate with Percival. To mate with them all, to let each and every male have him. Newt could feel himself shiver with the idea of it. His gaze looking at Percival and knowing he would be the first, the first every time.

 

Come the evening, Grindelwald raised a brow at Newt and he squirmed, glancing at Credence. The younger satyr, looked away immediately, face a bit red as he turned back to his work repairing a fishing net.

Newt looked around the cave. Theseus slept on, Jacob was sorting food into storage boxes, Percival was looking over papers of some sort. Grindelwald was just watching Newt plainly. The cave was rounded but a bit like an egg shape, with a bit of extra room near the back of the cave. They kept important things there, furthest from the door. But there was also a bed there, empty furs. No one had used it yet but no one had told him not to use it. It didn’t offer much cover but it was a bit tucked away in comparison to the fireside.

The next time Credence looked at him, Newt flushed but pointed to the back. The satyr nearly tripped, getting up and going there quickly. Everyone looked up and Newt’s face was flushed as he followed Credence. They met at the back still in sight and both very awkward.

If they waited too long, Percival would surely think Newt was too young.

“Get on your hands and knees, Credence can kneel and bend down behind you,” Grindelwald called out. With no other idea, Newt obeyed it, dropping down to his knees. Credence followed him eagerly. Watching as Newt shifted and then pushed his tunic up and over his head. There was no point in hiding his body. He was there to mate.

“Well, well,” Grindelwald drawled teasingly and Newt didn’t look to see who was looking at him. He knelt down instead and bit his lip when Credence’s unsure hands gently cupped his backside.

“Can you…” he asked, pulling on Newt’s thigh and guiding him to spread his legs a bit wider. Newt felt the warm breath a second before the wet tongue touched his hole. He whined out, feeling that warm thing wiggling against him there.

“Describe him, Credence.”

“Shut the hells up,” Percival snapped at Grindelwald, his voice odd. Newt made the mistake of glancing at him, finding the male staring at him with such a hunger that it made him want to whimper.

“He’s…” Credence whispered softly. Everyone was silent, waiting for the rest. “Pretty. It’s little and pink. Delicate, soft. He’s so soft.” He sighed the last part, rubbing his cheek on Newt's backside.

Newt gasped out when the satyr licked over his hole again, his fingers holding Newt’s backside spread so he could dig in as he pleased. His tongue pushed in and it felt so nice. Without realizing it, Newt was rocking back a bit, wanting more.

“Your…f-fingers please,” he requested gently and immediately a finger was pressing in. Newt’s toes curled as he felt it ease into him. It felt so different from anything he knew but also so very nice.

Newt pressed his face down to the fur on the floor but kept his backside up high for Credence to work.

The finger in him moved, back and forth and Newt moaned out, very loud, without meaning too. He pushed back so all of Credence’s finger was in him and clenched down on it. Wanting it to fill him. The satyr behind him groaned out a bit as well. His tongue worked to lap around Newt’s rim as his finger pressed in.

The click of hooves made Newt look over. Grindelwald was coming towards them, his cock hard and pushing against his loincloth. Percival looked about to protest, looking at Newt. The nymph squirmed but didn’t say anything as the other satyr came and knelt in front of him. Percival closed his mouth, watching them all. Jacob was touching himself, rutting into his hand.

Newt shivered, Credence’s mouth making him feel so very good.

“Come up here darling,” Grindelwald instructed as he reached down and took Newt by the sides and lifted him up to his hands and knees again. The position left him directly in front of the satyr’s hips, his covered cock in Newt’s face.

“Do you want to see?”

A bit humiliated, but very stirred up by Credence, Newt nodded his head.

Grindelwald removed his loincloth with a pull of the strap, his heavy cock hanging before his fur covered thighs. It was long and thick, very red and the head with dripping with a milky fluid. It made Newt’s mouth water and he moved without thinking.

Nuzzling the tip, he licked at the end and tasted a salty tang on his tongue. Newt loved salty things.

A hand went into his hair and Grindelwald took hold of his own cock, lifting it up so the head pressed against Newt’s mouth.

“Open up, be a good little thing,” he coaxed and Newt didn’t think on it, just listening.

He felt the fat head pop into his mouth, lips closing automatically. He sucked straightaway, liking how big it felt on his tongue. Newt’s nose filled with a heavy scent, nothing bad but something distinctly sexual, something distinctly Grindelwald. He shifted his shoulders to get more comfortable and pressed in a bit more. His mouth ached to open so wide but the more he slid down the better he felt.

Credence’s fingers and tongue were still working on him. His hole being opened and Newt suddenly wanted it much more open. He wanted something like the cock in his mouth inside his arse too. He wanted to feel it inside him.

He sucked, lips sealing tightly as he rubbed his tongue along the heavy hard cock in his mouth. It tasted good, something about the flavour making Newt shiver. He just had to have more.

Newt pressed a bit further and it was hard to breathe so he pulled back a touch and sucked in a deep breath in before he slid back down. He could feel it in his throat, all the way down, Newt had never known he could fit something so far into his mouth.

“Look at that,” Grindelwald rumbled. “That’s what a cock sucker looks like.”

Fingers touched his throat and rubbed at he cock bulging there. Newt didn’t even feel ashamed or embarrassed, he wasn't a sex scared human after all. It felt good and he enjoyed it, he enjoyed it a lot.

A hand closed in his hair and the satyr began to move, shallowly thrusting into his face.

It startled Newt how much he wanted him to go faster, to use Newt much more callously.

“Get more fingers in him, get him ready to fuck,” Grindelwald commanded and a growl came from across the cave.

“He’s too young,” Percival’s sharp commanding voice called and just the sound of him made Newt’s back shiver.

“Are you being purposely dim? Does he look too young to you?”

The hand in his hair tightened and Grindelwald yanked him back, pulling him off the long wonderful cock. Spit hung down Newt’s mouth as he blinked, feeling dazed. He licked his lip and looked up, wondering why the satyr had stopped.

“Tell Percy you want to be fucked, you want to feel a nice dick in your pretty little ass.”

“Oh,” Newt shivered in delight at the suggestion. His poor cock hung throbbing and his backside felt terribly empty. “Yes please, I’d like that very much.”

“I said tell Percival, not me, little pretty.”

Newt’s head was turned, making him look over at the lead satyr watching. Percival was obviously hard and the sight of his cock through his loincloth made Newt tremble a bit. Percival looked uncertain though, peering at Newt, searching for something.

“Please, please, I can do it. I’ll try my best,” he swore breathlessly, feeling his hips roll on their own. Credence was still fingering him, still pushing in and out of him. Newt loved the feeling of it, the push and pull inside him.

“Can we please mate?” He asked, trying not to beg outright as he looked at Percival.

“See? Come here and ride him yourself if you’re so worried,” Grindelwald said and Newt nodded his head in eager agreement, looking back at Percival, hoping he would.

“Ask him real nice,” the callous satyr instructed and Newt flushed, feeling a touch shy, despite his sexual hunger.

“…P-please, would you? I think…. I think I need it,” he confessed and Percival finally, finally, moved, stepping closer, coming over to them.

Grindelwald was pushing Newt, getting him down on his back with his thighs spread invitingly to Percival.

Credence and Grindelwald both stepped back as Percival knelt before him and Newt felt nervous but eager.

Chewing his lip, he tucked his chin to his chest and glanced up at the satyr meekly. Percival looked so perfect, that lustful intensity in his gaze as he reached out. His large warm hands touched Newt’s knees and gently slid down his thighs.

“Are you sure?” He rumbled and Newt nodded quickly.

“I’ve never done so but I want to, I want to very much.”

“He’s of age, his body's probably desperate for it. It’s unhealthy for a nymph not to be fucking,” Grindelwald announced and Newt thought he might be right. He had never felt this way, as if he needed this as much as food. He couldn’t think clearly, his mind hazy and just very eager to feel Percival inside him.

Percival’s hand cupped Newt’s small cock and he rutted against it. It felt wonderful but it wasn’t enough at all. Newt pressed his hips up, trying to get Percival’s hand where he wanted it. The satyr let him, slipping his fingers down and over his backside. He pressed to Newt’s wet hole and he whined out in reaction. The blunt fingers feeling very nice as he pressed against them, wanting to be opened up on them.

“You’re so wet,” Percival muttered, seeming surprised. Newt often got slick this last season, whenever he was thinking of sexual things, even for only a moment. He hoped it was alright, that Percival wouldn’t mind how eager he was.

He pressed back into the touch and shivered as the tip of two fingers sank into him easily, bigger than Credence's had felt.

Newt whined when Percival pulled his hand away suddenly. He looked up to the satyr and felt his worry ease as Percival yanked the ties of his loincloth.

He was very big, a nice thick and long cock that was hard and ready. The head was dripping eagerly and Newt wanted it in his mouth as much as he wanted in his backside.

Percival moved over him, kneeling over Newt as the nymph spread his thighs wide in invitation. Newt trembled, looking down and watching Percival direct his cock to kiss Newt’s hole. It felt so large, far too big and Newt wanted it in him. He wanted to ache with it. Wanted to break on this large prick.

“Easy,” Percival whispered to him and Newt nodded, scooting down a bit and tipping his arse up in an offering.

It pressed against his hole, pushing more and more. Newt wanted it in already.

“Please,” he requested, feeling desperate.

The head finally sank in, going with a sudden motion. Newt sighed out, hips wiggling as he tried to take more. Percival’s hand took his waist to stop him. He held himself up with his other arm, looming over Newt and staring down at him.

“Go slow, you could rip.”

“Nymphs don’t rip,” Grindelwald snorted but they ignored him.

Newt nodded his head obediently and made his body stay still as Percival eased into him, pushing his delightful cock bit by slow bit. Until Newt’s toes curled on the furs and he felt so deliciously opened. His insides felt like they where being filled in the best way. It felt good, sparks of pleasure behind Newt’s eyes as he moaned out happily.

Newt felt the fur of Percival’s thighs brush his own silky thighs and he lifted them up so the satyr could push as deep as he could possibly go.

It seemed easier so Newt swung his legs up, sliding them up Percival’s bare chest and his ankles over the satyr's shoulders, his body bend it half at the waist nearly. His backside was offered up perfectly like this.

“He’s so bendy,” Credence whispered and Newt supposed he was. Nymphs were known for it and Theseus had always said Newt could twist himself up in ways he’d never seen before.

Percival accepted the changed position, his body resting against Newt’s upturned ass and along the backs of his thighs. He wanted to touch as much of the satyr as he could.

Slowly, Percival pushed his weight down a bit, letting Newt feel it, letting it press him down into the furs.

He whined out and the satyr froze. Newt’s hands flew up, grabbing his biceps to pull him closer.

“It feels good,” he reassured quickly.

“Wait until he moves,” Grindelwald teased and Newt glanced at him, speculating how it would feel. He looked back at Percival and the satyr was watching him with such a soft heat. He reached out and cupped Newt’s face, his warm rough hand caressed Newt’s smooth skin tenderly. Newt’s heart fluttered and he felt a swell of affection for this male. Newt pressed into his hand and smiled softly, peeking up at the satyr.

Percival smirked down at him. It was the first proper smile Newt had ever seen from him and it made him so utterly charming.

The satyr pulled back a bit and then gently began to move.

Newt gasped out, lights behind his eyes flashing as pleasure flooded his body. Everything jolting to life in a new and glorious way.

Newt was meant for this.

“It feels good,” he breathed, pushing back on the cock in him, rocking and feeling the fiction.

“It feels very, very, good,” he corrected and Percival chuckled. He took Newt’s thighs in his hands and so the nymph spread his legs as he pulled them, letting them fall wide. The backs of his knees locked in the crook of Percival’s elbows and he held Newt spread like that easily. He began to move more with a rhythm, rocking back and forth.

“Oh,” Newt breathed, laying back and enjoying the new sensations. He understood now, why so many nymphs would have sex all the time when he was younger. He had seen them, letting satyrs lead them off into the trees. Sometimes they were the ones leading even.

Newt understood why now.

Percival was being very kind, trying to ease Newt into sex but he could see that resolve breaking down. The satyr’s thrusting growing more and more rougher, hitting into Newt a bit harder with each motion. Still, it was sweet that he even tried to be gentle.

But Newt didn't want that at all.

The harsher he got, the more everything lit up in Newt. The friction inside him, the wet slaps on his backside. It all felt so good, building up in a new way.

Newt found himself shoving to meet each lunge, moaning out every time Percival slid into him.

"Please, please," he cried out, needing everything. Percival seemed to respond, grunting out as his pace changed. He took hold of Newt's thighs and began to pound into him. Callous motions that slammed Newt up along the furs and felt so perfect.

The cock in him was amazing and Newt felt frantic with hunger, riding back as Percival fucked him good and hard.

Credence whined out suddenly and Newt blinked, looking over at him. Grindelwald shoved the younger satyr, leading him to kneel in front of Newt's head.

"Open that pretty mouth," Grindelwald said and Newt obeyed immediately. Credence was stroking his cock, the head pulsing as he gasped out, looking like he was about to break.

Percival fucked Newt as Credence came on his face, long white lines on his skin. Newt caught the first taste and adored it, licking his lips eagerly. He tried to catch more but he was being yanked and shoved by the satyr fucking him so much that it landed more on his skin than in his mouth. Credence came so much too, nice thick spurts as he moaned out.

Percival was growling, lunging furiously and his pace breaking. He was ramming into Newt so harshly, claiming that part of him.

The taste on his lips and the pleasure of the satyr fucking him undid Newt. He cried out, rising far higher than last time, his body seeming to come apart as he howled. Everything pulsing in pleasure as Percival cursed out and shoved in quick wild motions, near feral seeming as he snarled. Newt could feel him throbbing inside him, pulsing and filling Newt's body.

It felt wonderful and Newt sank down from the release languidly, sagging against the sweat-soaked furs under him as his body went slack.

"Are you ok?" Percival asked, voice panting as he looked down at Newt like he was something amazing. Newt nodded his head, feeling a bit like he was floating as he smiled up at this delightful male.

"Hurry up," Grindelwald nudged Percival and he turned to glare at the other satyr but slid back, pulling free from Newt's hole. He felt empty now and missed the stretch inside him.

Grindelwald rolled Newt over, yanking him up to his hands and knees and then he was ramming into Newt before he knew what was happening.

The nymph cried out as the callous male took him brutally. He was so rough and mean but it sill lit Newt's body up.

He cried out just the same, head thrown back and mind utterly lost as he was pounded like an animal.

Grindelwald's hands were digging into his waist with a bite as he fucked Newt so hard, hips snapping without let up.

"Go easy," Percival warned but the satyr ignored him. He used Newt mercilessly, the hard slap of skin on skin and the wet sound of Newt's used hole filling the cave and seeming to echo. His high whines and Grindelwald's grunts accompanying the mating sounds.

Newt let himself go, letting the pleasure override everything else and he trembled but cried out for more.

Too soon, Grindelwald was coming in him, snarling over Newt as he filled him.

Once he finished, he shoved Newt away roughly and he wasn't ready for it. He went down into the furs face first and then Grindelwald was yanking his leg to flip Newt onto his back. He barely had his breath, body quivering and sweat-soaked as he laid there a bit dazed.

"Treat him like that again and I'll beat you for it," Percival warned and Grindelwald snorted.

"Nymphs are made for fucking satyrs, guaranteed he could take far harsher. Credence get over here and fuck your first nymph."

Newt felt the younger male come and kneel before his spread thighs. Making his eyes open up, he reached out and wrapped Credence in a sweet hug. The poor satyr looked so nervous and overeager. His body almost vibrating with it.

"The nymphs in the valley won't fuck him, the thing he's tainted," Grindelwald teased.

"He's not," Newt replied. "There's nothing in him that's dark," he reassured Credence and he seemed so shaken to hear it.

"You're powerful, to sense so far into someone," Grindelwald muttered, more to himself than Newt.

Credence took Newt's focus, the nymph smiling encouragingly.

Shaking fingers touched Newt's hole, three sinking in easily and semen coming out. Newt was a sloppy mess now and it felt oh so good. He sighed out happily and the young satyr seemed to gain confidence from that.

Credence leaned down and licked at Newt's face, cleaning his own semen from his skin. Newt tipped his head to kiss the male back. To lick at his skin too, tasting the salt of sweat on the young male.

"How darling," Grindelwald teased and Newt ignored him, nuzzling Credence gently as the male lined up and pressed into him. Newt clutched at him, relaxing down on his back as Credence hung over him, sinking in. He went slow and Newt gave soft sounds to reassure him.

Credence's eyes were closed and he was shivering as he eased his cock into Newt's body. He whimpered out, hips thrusting in tight little shoves. Newt could feel the cock in him throbbing and Credence managed a few thrusts before he came with a cry.

Grindelwald laughed mockingly and Credence looked ashamed but Newt smiled up at him, he cupped his face and pulled Credence down for another kiss.

"Keep going," Percival suggested and so Credence kept moving, his erection never flagging.

He was a bit fumbling but his cock felt good and Newt liked that Credence could keep fucking him even after release. He said so and that gave the youth clear relief.

Newt's hole was overfilled, loud lewd sounds coming from it as semen seeped out around the cock in him.

Credence worked up to a nice hard rhythm, chest panting as he utterly fucked Newt with all he had. Almost as savage as Grindelwald but without the mean edge.

The satyr came with a loud cry and Newt came with him, his legs going around Credence's hips to yank him in, to hold him as deeply as he could as Newt sobbed and shivered apart. The pleasure taking over his body once more as they trembled together and shared sloppy kisses.

After it all faded down and they still kissed on, careful but firm hands moved them both. Newt blinking as Percival knelt beside them and rolled them so Credence was on his back and Newt atop of him.

Credence's cock came free with a slurp and Newt's hole dripped thick seed. He shivered and clung to Credence as Percival pushed lifted his hips high and his cock sank back into Newt, hard and ready for another go.

Credence kissed Newt's chin and sucked at his throat lovingly as Percival bit at the back of his neck and rocked into Newt. It wasn't as frantic as before but felt so good all the same. Newt reached back a hand to hold onto Percival's arm as the lead male pumped into him.

Newt felt so adored, loved and safe between the two males, their hands touching him all over and seeming to impress onto Newt. As if he would never forget their touch.

Grindelwald knelt before him and Newt was tiring. He still pushed up to his hands and knees and opened his lips to take the male into his mouth. It tasted so pleasant, Newt's mind already addicted to the taste of a nice fat cock.

Credence was pushing up, licking what wasn't in Newt's mouth and then his tongue was lapping at Grindelwald's heavy ball sack. The male grunting out over them.

"Two cock suckers now, fuck," he muttered and Percival let out a low chuckle, hips still lightly slapping into Newt.

Newt wiggled his arse in tease and the cock in his throat gurgled his moan as Percival obediently gave him a good hard thrust. His motion shoving Newt on the cock in his mouth. Grindelwald's hands landed on Newt's shoulders and pushed him back onto the cock in his ass. The two males finding a rhythm as they moved him between their cocks. Credence's fingers tugging at Newt's nipples and pulling his own little cock.

Spit ran down his lips as he groaned out helplessly and Credence was there, licking it away. Newt trembled and felt his body coming apart once more with so much attention.

It wasn't as wild as before but it felt just as nice, a pleasant thrill coursing through him as his hole clenched and Newt sucked as hard as he could on Grindelwald.

He was rewarded with a mouthful of seed. It came without warning and spilt over his lips, Credence licking his chin to catch the excess as Newt swallowed what he could eagerly.

Percival finished in him not long after, groaning out as he gave Newt a few frantic lunges and then went still, pressed deeply into him.

Collapsing down, Newt whimpered and snuggled against Credence. Percival gently guided him off the satyr and onto his back, something almost possessive about it. Percival curled Newt close to him instead and he went willingly. The fur under them was magically cleaned and Newt sagged against Percival's warm and comfortable chest. Newt had always liked being touched by people he trusted. He slept best curled up against Theseus growing up.

Grindelwald got up and left them as Credence gently spread Newt's thighs and then pressed his face between them.

Newt whined out at the young male licked his overused hole, slurping up the seed coming from him. He wasn't trying to stir Newt up, touching him lovingly without any rush. So Newt pressed his face to Percival's chest and let himself doze. He could hear Percival's strong heartbeat and could feel a gentle tongue cleaning him up. They eased him to sleep, Newt feeling utterly used and adoring the new wonderful feeling.

He couldn't wait for more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this smut week and please make sure to let me know which one you would love to see continued! The most popular shall be worked on right away! 
> 
> [You can also tell me on my tumblr!](https://the-miss-lv.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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